so you know that whole thing about being grateful and
embracing each moment?
i talk about it all the time and i live with open eyes,
desperate to see each and every simple blessing,
to capture them and remember them,
to live a life.
i came to realize something lately.
i'm missing out on life, on the moments,
by religiously trying to capture each one.
what? i know.
but bear with me.
today my twins were swinging together on the old scuffed up tire and
they were laughing.
not just a chuckle, but a deep, connected laugh.
their smiles radiated and watching them, my heart soared.
they were so. very. beautiful.
i needed to save this moment.
so i told them,
"girls, hold on. i'll be right back with my camera. keep laughing!"
two stringy haired angels paused, looked at me with confused eyes and
went back to laughing, but not quite so deep, so real.
i ran inside to grab the camera and headed back out.
i found one twin swinging slowly on the tire, alone, quiet.
the other had run off somewhere.
my heart fell, hard, rock splashing in wide blue ocean.
i had missed it.
so intent on capturing the moment, embracing it, counting it that
i had missed it.
not only had i missed it but
i had ended it.
i had broken it.
i could have stayed and watched them.
i could have smiled sun rays,
but i had smashed the moment and run,
trying to remember it.
and it got me thinking,
how many moments had i actually missed while trying to "embrace" them?
how many moments had died in my zealousness to capture them?
how long had i been missing my families moments?
and why do we think we need to step in to perfection and
meditate upon it, try and make it last, make it better?
it already is.
it's not like 200 years ago people lived solemn, somber, ungrateful lives.
did the mamas forget their babies first steps?
did they lose the color of their girls' eyes, the sound of their toddler's giggle,
the feel of their husband's hand so softly rubbing their cheek,
all because they couldn't take a photo or tap it all out on their computer?
of course not.
they had it all.
they lived it.
and it mattered so deeply, filled them so full that
they couldn't forget it.
they lived each moment. truly lived it.
without thought of anything more than what they were living.
and 20, 30, 40 years later it was all still there,
playing in that unmatched theater of God's creation that we each possess.
i'm not saying we shouldn't document our lives;
write it down,
be mindful of our days and moments.
i'm just saying,
maybe we need to relax a bit on the capturing and embracing of our moments and
just live them instead.
because you know,
if i were to die tomorrow,
i would want my children to have a beautiful memory of my face,
my tooth filled smile and green present eyes.
not of a camera with my hair.