By the Dawn's Early Light

It hit me sometime in the craziness that is December (throw in both of our birthdays in addition to all the other business of the season) that the immediate was crushing out the important in my life. The reality hit me really hard shortly after Isabel turned four. For all the running around and endless activities that we did, I felt like, for the last year, I had missed out on ... well, Isabel.

I don't want her childhood to be a blur of activities; I want it to be of quality time spent together. I heard myself saying to her (on almost a daily basis) "Come on, hurry! We are going to be late!" It was the prevailing refrain throughout the year. And so, in December, I made a decision to put a halt to non-stop activity, to cut out a lot of things, to simplify our life, to have this coming year be one of enjoying life together on our terms, at our pace. That's not to say that we're excluding all activities, just that I am going to be more selective of how our time is filled and am learning to say no to some things (regardless of how my decision may be understood by others).

There is peace and calmness now that's refreshingly different. I know that it is my nature to be on the go, go, go. As an extrovert, I get my energy from being around people. (Maybe one of the reasons I love teaching teenagers all day.) But even an extrovert needs some time for herself. And so, even though I am a night owl by nature, I have been waking up extra early to read, meditate and pray each morning. It has helped me be intentional about making decisions to keep balance in my life. By extra early, I mean 5:00. [Groan!] If I am lucky, I can carve out about an hour for myself before it's time to wake Isabel. This morning, however, she called out to me before I even got out of bed. I tried unsuccessfully to get her back to sleep. No such luck. I explained to her that mommy needed some time for herself to read. Her response? To get her children's Bible, ask to get dressed and then climb up on the couch to read alongside me.

Now, that's the kind of memory I want her to have.