The stairs looked daunting. I’ll confess, my mind quickly shifts into overdrive when it comes to second-guessing what my body 1) would enjoy doing and 2) is capable of doing. So, when the boys and I were on a walk last Friday night and I saw those stairs, I immediately came up with a Plan B. Out of the blue, I said to them, “OK, here’s the deal: We take each step one at a time, and for each step we say one thing we love.” And they did. And we did.
One of the marvelous things about parenting is that kids so often think you know what you’re doing. My parenting style has always been and appears to still be – making things up. And what I love about these two young men is that they trust me (most times) enough to go along and to enter into what will be next for us.
And so, we slowed everything down and opened our hearts and told one another all the things – for that one moment in time – all the things we loved. We talked about possessions and authors, about singers and food. It was slow. It was listening. And together we made a moment. We made it up all those stairs. Together.
We are now in new days. We are in days that we've read about in futuristic books or utopian movies. But here's the deal for me - I put down those books; I have been known to walk out of those movies. Give me a Louise Penny or Meryl Streep and I'll see it through to the end. But the truth is - these are our days. Sometimes it's all we can do to keep track of numbers and graphs, let alone stop to think about the human lives that make up these statistics. Empty chairs and empty tables. We need our souls to make it through this. We need our hearts to keep beating. And for me, and maybe for you as well, to do that I am doing my best to be mindful of the moments that continue to bring joy and hope - and hold on to them for dear life.
It’s these kinds of things that are keeping me going on this Lenten journey. These kinds of moments that are holding time and holding me. They matter. Pieced together these kinds of moments are creating the pathway through these days. Sometimes it feels like it’s one step, then another and another. But/and it’s steps. And I’m taking them. And Friday, the boys and I took them together.