My boys typically spend their time finding rocks to throw in said body of "water" and sticks to prod...well...everything. My girl chimes in with commands and instruction, explaining to her younger brothers how to be in this situation. And I watch and smile and then jump to my feet when the littlest loses his balance almost taking a dive.
Yesterday it was just me and the boys. And I found myself wanting to linger. I battled it at first because my "less-dumb" phone came in the mail this week causing a bit of a distraction to my own little world. But eventually I put it down and I listened.
My little men were digging up moss nearby. (By the way, is it OK to touch and hug and practically ingest moss? These are things I don't know anything about.)
The breeze felt quiet and welcoming. The leaves waved at me from above. It was nice. And I talked to Him. And listened for His stillness.
So much pulls at us. We live in a culture where information can easily overload our senses. At any given moment I can know what is happening in Pakistan (through the media's filter, of course), get a laugh from Jon Acuff about his flight to wherever, and know how my sister's day is faring (thanks to Facebook).
Sometimes though, I need to lay it all down and watch the little orange butterfly fluttering past...and my kids digging up possible hazardous material.
It's Saturday. Take some time to linger in a quiet space. Then listen for your Maker. He sees and whispers.
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