Face is crusted with mucus, red skin forming beneath. We’ve not slept in days and yet I insist on a Christmas craft. We are still attending festivities (even while battling illness) and I’m desperate for them not to think it is about GETTING alone. Em is dressed partially for the party, tights and undershirt are on. I’ve broken up a few fights already, pulling each others crafts away. Little boy won’t quit his newly learned ‘cutting skill’ long enough to finish his little masterpiece. I turn to finish cleaning up the kitchen and return to find little girl colouring herself with markers. Her tights deep blue, her hands all purple, and I snap at her.
“Emily..WHAT ARE YOU DOING? We are leaving in 15 minute!”
Little face turns to lap, eyes fill with giant tears, sobs begin. It is nap time at my house and no time for crafts or frustrated mommys.
Little boy looks up at me and with his justice instinct strong, and his heart soft says,
“Mommy…you broke her feelings”.
I stop short my blustering. I’ve been flitting around the house like a wind storm, stirring up trouble with my own impatience. Driving everyone wild with my heart full of ‘rush’. Bossing husband, hustling children, as if there was a jet plane to heaven we are about to miss. As if we are desperate to pick up our food rations. There is no true rush besides the one that lives in my heart and that one wields its head too often and turns mamma heart cold.
I’ve thought long and hard what this year would be about and the moment that little boy called me out, the moment where impatience caused anger flare up and little girl tears, the choice became clear. This year will be about walking slowly, so that little feet can easily keep up. This year will be about being quick to listen and slow to speak. This year will be about being two minutes late rather than yelling ‘hurry up’. This will be the year that allows little hands to fully explore before I push them along. It will be about not letting words run off ahead of me and running into each other or running over the ones I love. This year will be one where PATIENCE is learned and refined. It is time for me to grab hold of my impatient tongue that lashes instead of builds, and it is time to learn how to walk slowly beside and to match my pace to little feet. I’m so thankful to day for the ONE who is patient with me, the one who will lead this heart into step with His.