Pause... and Rejoice

When my daughter and I were chatting while walking on a favorite local trail today after Mass, she asked me something about "in ten years..." 

I laughed while responding, saying that in ten years she could very well be married with children of her own.

Those words made us stop short for a moment.

What? How? I thought to myself as we continued on. What did I just say? How is it possible that my daughter is on the cusp of adulthood already? 

As every parent knows, the days may go slowly, but the years fly by, and, somehow, in the seeming blink of an eye, your baby is all grown up.

You cannot stop time from marching on.

But you can choose to pause.

So, pause I did. 

I listened to my "little" girl share all her thoughts. I stopped at a favorite part of the trail to take silly photos with her.

I rejoiced in the gift of her being my daughter and us having time to spend together.

We rejoiced in the beauty of nature, the bond of mother-and-child, the gifts of this Easter season - which, yes, we chatted about along the trail.

During quiet moments on the trail, I prayed in the quiet of my heart with true joy and thanksgiving. I also prayed, of course, for my daughter's - and my other children's - protection, continued spiritual growth, and future.

It was a simple time, but a special one that I am truly grateful for.

I encourage you this Sunday, next Sunday, or any day in between to take some time to pause with a loved one of your own and rejoice! God is good - and taking time to pause and appreciate the simple gifts He gives us in nature and in one another is good, too.

Rejoice!

What Have the Mulberries Been Teaching Me This Year?

 

It's mulberry season here, and when my daughter and I noticed the fruit on a tree nearby starting to ripen before we left for a short camping trip, we wondered if we would miss prime picking time this year.

So, soon after we returned, we went on a walk to see if there were still any good berries.

There were! 

We picked a container full that day and, the next day, between rain clouds, picked another.

On of us go laughably "stained" as we did.

Since then, there have been plenty more berries ripening, and, during walks, we've picked a handful to nibble here and there.

As we have done so, we've noticed that, oddly this year, not all of the seemingly ripe berries are good.

While some pack a familiar punch of delightful tastiness, others seem flavorless, and one or two have even caused us to spit them out with an "Ew! THAT as a bad one!"

Strange, huh?

Same tree as in past years, but more inconsistency than ever.

Same branch, same outward appearance in the color and size of berries, yet each one offering different levels of flavor.

Luckily, there have been plenty of tasty ones, and we've found that when we mix the fruit together to make chia jam and other seasonal foraged fruit goodies, the not-so-flavorful berries have been masked by yummy ones, becoming good on average.

And that's where my mulberry lesson came in:

I was thinking about today how like life those berries can be.

Our Lord is so generous in granting us moments of life to enjoy freely, yet some bits of life take time to come into their own.

As they do, some moments are rich and delightful. Others not so much.

Those delightful and not-so-hot moments often come close together.

If we dwell on the the moments that aren't savor-worthy, life can become pretty hard to swallow. But, if we take all life's moments together, on the whole, life is quite rich and fruitful.

I don't know about you, but I admittedly sometimes tend to dwell on feeling hurt, numb, bothered, challenged, beaten, or, fill-in-the-unsavory-term...

Then, praise God, I typically realize what I am doing, and the Spirit moves me to choose to place my focus on gratitude, hope, encouragement, beauty... all the glorious welcome gifts that come along.

Of course, doing so does not erase the bitterness or distaste of some moments in life, but it sure does change the overall flavor, making life so much more palatable - and even delight-inducing.

This year, the mulberries have been reminding me that every moment leaves its mark...

And, although not not every moment is a good one and the marks can look pretty bad...

... it's all a part of the process of living, and, overall, life remains so praiseworthy.

Thanks be to God for the gift of life (and the free gift of foraged mulberries!)