The last few days I have been restless. Have you ever had the feeling that you are squandering your time? That's how I have felt. But I didn't know which way to go or what to do. I want my life to be something beautiful. I want to look back and not have my life be a sum total of all the dishes I've washed or loads of laundry I've folded or toilets I've scrubbed. Sometimes I feel as though that is the focus of my existence because they are always looming over my head.
Then, last night, we did something so common and ordinary - at least here in the South.
Matt spent his childhood in Oklahoma, where they spent hours and hours during the summer catching fireflies (I'm not southern enough to call them lightning bugs, but my kids do). Until we moved here, I had never seen a firefly in person.
(Funny side story: Before we left, we prayed and we had the kids brush their teeth so they could just go straight to bed. When I told Ben to go brush his teeth, he got so upset. I assured him that after he brushes his teeth we aren't going to bed, we are going to see the fireflies. He got the most hopeful, joyous look on his face and said, "Brush teeth, and fireflies and never go to bed again?!")
We stayed out until almost ten - completely unheard of in the Hicken house - and watched the kids darting hear and there, mimicking the zigzag pattern of their targets, shrieking and whooping. Fireflies, to me, are amazing! They are anything but ordinary. And then it dawned on me. Extraordinary is a matter of perspective. Yes, there are exceptions, like mothers pulling whole cars off of their endangered children, but who wants to be put in that kind of situation anyway? No, there is the extraordinary in my life. I just have to be willing to put the laundry or the electronic device aside long enough to really see it.
Every time I open my camera, I have little snapshots the kids have taken, unbeknownst to me. Here are just a couple:
Why? I've been on this earth for a few decades. Crockpots and feathers are about as boring as they come. To me. Until looking at them with my children's perspective. I remember collecting feathers, hoping to find the long ones people used for writing. The crockpot, I still don't understand, but I love that my kids do. They see something. And, isn't finding the extraordinary all about seeing things? Like the clover bouquets Will likes to present me with. They are beautiful and interesting.
Here are some of the extraordinary things in my life:
Matt and Ben singing Nessun Dorma in silly operatic voices.
The time I fell asleep on the floor in the afternoon, and Ben came snuggling up next to me.
Chubby baby
Sisters!! I have no idea what that's like.
The cacophony of six happy kids playing together, and playing with their awesome dad.
A spinning gate
This boy
Water fountains, shaped as geysers
Sweet, little feet always crossed while she falls asleep
The subject matter is only a side note in an extraordinary painting. What really makes a painting wondrous is how it was put on the canvas. I want to put my life on canvas in such a way that the simple moments are seen for what they really are.
Extraordinary.
