Little Wonders

Life... our lives... what are they made of? Are they a dapple of grand, momentous occasions scattered about sporadically or are they a string of little wonders connected by a thin, fragile thread? I am sure some would say both and in reality I guess that is true. Our lives are a composite; a sum total added together to make a whole. But when I think about the moments that make up my life I tend to think about those small, quiet, precious ones. The moments that I marked in my mind went unnoticed by others - either because others weren't there or were unaware. I think about nursing my newborn daughter, rocking her in her nursery, just the two of us, me quietly staring in amazement - mesmerized by her perfect little face. I think about picking my son up from his first overnight baseball camp at the age of 12 and looking at him with such awe and admiration because he had the courage to go alone and in doing so learned more than just the fundamental skills of the game. It could be a song, a kind word someone uttered, an intimate conversation, a smile. All little pictures - still photographs I took and stored in my mind; a scrapbook of sorts that no one else has ever seen.

I can remember for years sitting at the Christmas Eve service at church and listening to the Bible verses that tell the story of the Nativity. But one year, listening to all the different accounts, I heard it for the umpteenth time... "But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart," and for some reason that stood out to me that time. All the times I quietly stood back and watched my children, all the times I marked some moment with my mind, every time I took one of the those still framed photographs, I was treasuring those things and keeping them to ponder in my heart. I know that the birth of Jesus wasn't a minor event - but some how I think it wasn't so much the grandness of the event Mary was thinking about ... but perhaps, instead, the small, quiet, humbleness of it all.

I think I am missing that right now. I have to find a way to get back to an appreciation of the soft, often silent, string of moments in life. I need to shut up, settle down, stop searching, and just be. Yet why is that so much easier said than done? I can legitimately look at my life and reason and rationalize why I am having difficulty doing it - it doesn't take the proverbial rocket scientist to figure it out. But it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see the proper course of action either. I am making a little headway though... I think. And I have the sweetest, most caring people in my life who talk to me, send me words of warmth and genuine affection - and I dearly love them. They are honest, kind and compassionate. They kick my ass, they make me laugh, and they send me hugs and kisses when I need them most (even if they don't realize I do). I treasure them... and will ponder them in my heart - always. So maybe I'm not a lost cause after all... maybe, just maybe, by sitting back, watching, waiting, I'll start to notice those small, precious moments of wonder again.