Just the other day, I thought I had figured it out. And by that I mean figured out how to create some semblance of happiness and peace in myself and my family now that we aref four plus dog.
It was a gorgeous spring day–blue skies, gentle breeze, just warm enough in the sun to melt away the lingering wintry feeling beneath your skin. I was sitting, nursing Charles in one of two large wooden rocking chairs that are our outdoor furniture in the backyard. Cadel was busily digging in some dirt I had just cleared with weeding. I watched as he methodically filled his bucket, scoop by scoop, and then began to fill his dump truck. I sat back and allowed myself to sink into the moment. Ah, this is it, I though to myself. See, we just need to get outside like this and every day could be this peaceful, this full of contentment. I tilted my face up to the sun and closed my eyes. Five delicious, quiet seconds passed.
Then, suddenly, I was stunned out of my reverie by something cold on my left arm that was holding Charles. My eyes shot open to see Cadel standing right next to me, soiled shovel in hand, unmistakeable grin on his brazen two-going- on-three-year-old face. He had just dumped a shovel full of dirt on his brother’s sweet nursing face.
And that pretty much sums up the past three months. Now, if you’ll forgive me my typos, I’m going to go ahead and publish this right now because I know another moment may never come. By the grace of God I have stolen the time to write this small bit. Off the cliff’s edge indeed.