Slowing down, breathing deep and embracing life

It is so hard. There is always so very much to do, and it seems for every task accomplished there are three more added to the interminable list. Life is too short, and the days fly by in such quick succession that our children seem to grow magically, to leap from one birthday to the next without any passage of time. My "little mouse", Dominic, is two and I can't bear to think of him at five, with no other little ones to fill the crib and the highchair.

The world rushes on, life rushes by, and we wonder when we will ever find the time to do all those things we want to do when we are so frantically trying to keep up with those things we need to do.

All of this tends to make us a little crazy, a little stressed-out (or a lot), hyper-focused on what we think are these necessities and yet despite the focus, distracted to the point of near-paralysis. We are running about unable to see the forest for the trees, busily trying to hack down all the trees at the same time. No wonder we lose our composure, we lose our tempers, we lose our minds. And we lose those precious moments with our children, the ones that pass so quickly that we panic at each milestone rather than rejoicing.

Educating the children becomes a chore to be ticked off the list rather than an opportunity to actually share some of those fleeting moments with them. We tell the children to "go and play" so that we can make phone calls or get on the computer.

As we enter autumn and I look look ahead to the coming season of winter, I don't want to have missed all the pleasant memories of summer. I am also entering the autumn of my life and leaving behind the fruitfulness of the summer years. But the metaphor ends there, for now the garden becomes the gardener, and I need to focus on the tender shoots I am raising and nurture them so that they may enter into their own summer strong and healthy.

So please, dearest Lord, give me a sense of perspective and a sense to discern my priorities. Help me to overlook the dirty bathroom, the dusty shelves, the muddy floor so that I may relax and enjoy, without anxiety, without guilt, time spent in my little garden, watching my children grow.