I see them, splashing and kicking and laughing. I really see. Past the sun streaming through glass jars, the dishwater splashed windows, there is the truth, the wonder and the beauty. Joyous!
Letting go. It is what I needed to do to find joy, stop searching. Joy isn't something that can be put on from the outside, it only can well up from the innermost place. I've been calling this the 'summer of fun' because of the fun we've been having. Really, for me, it's the summer of joy.
We've given up bedtime for riding bikes, chores for crafts, stress for time at the city pool. The spontaneous factor has been kicked up - usually this just kills me, I need a plan - but picnics and drives and playing and memories are well worth it.
I say: yes to playing with playdoh, even though I know the crumbly mess, painting, beads and stair sledding. Yes, I'll drop me and help you make a fort, read a book, do a puzzle, fill the swimming pool.
Halfway done, this sunny, delightful time, I feel like a warm sticky bun just pulled out and smothered in goo. I smile more. Life goes slowly and quickly and it's always good and I can see that.
My goals for these months quickly changed from staying ahead for school in the fall to: crafts, fun, love and grace. Grace is such a little, huge word. It is where I am learning to give what isn't deserved. First, really, I am accepting what I don't. Receiving. Giving. Really the same thing? As soon as I get a glimpse of understanding, it flees. I am grateful for the glimpse.
Not to give the illusion of perfection, there have been more of those extra-tired-over-the-top tantrums around here. Apparently, three year olds need not sleep in after seeing the previous 11pm. They become cranky and dramatic, who knew. *wink*
We are real and hurting and we hurt each other and we heal and forgive and are certainly not perfect. These moments, I see them teaching me a greater love, a greater patience, a greater need for compassion and an unfathomable amount of grace.
I feel myself waist deep in summer, but fully immersed. Different from that awkward feeling of waist high in the swimming pool, squealing, until we just plunge the top half down. Giving all the nerves at the edge of the skin the same sensation, it's all they know now, the pool water, I'm not hesitant any more. It feels ok now to be splashed, I am used to it.
To be here, waist high in summer, yet fully covered in its amazing blessings.