Of Being

Last night, after dinner, I noticed a certain twinge in the natural light peering in from our back windows.  I hurried outside, knowing it was a sign of the setting sun and knowing it had been cloudy all day so tonight's sunset would not disappoint.  And I caught it just in time.  That is to say, in time not to miss one moment of the fading light.

As I stood and watching, I saw the brilliant yellows, pinks and oranges fade in and out across the sky, illuminating the ripples in the remaining storm clouds and ending with a bright show of fuchsia along the Western horizon.

Philip came out to join me in the backyard and I decided this would be a wonderful moment to share with our little two-year-old - staring at the beauty of God's creation.  Thus, I tore her away from her half-eaten taquito and let her run her still-bibbed little barefooted self outside.  And she was pretty excited. 

Until she realized she wasn't allowed to run past the edge of our porch and all we were doing was staring at the sky. 

Her restlessness kicked in.  She wanted to run.  She wanted to play.  She wanted to sweep (our child has cleaning issues).  She did not want to stand and stare at the sky.

I suddenly remembered being young (as in, younger than I am now, but somewhat older than two) - those moments when my parents were simply trying to take in the beauty of living - going for Sunday drives, sitting around a campfire, just being.  And I remember wondering why they would force us to do something so boring and not attempt to entertain us for some further reason.  We're not driving for ice cream?  We're not going to play word games around the fire (I had somewhat of a nerd issue)?  Then what on earth are we doing?  Just sitting.

Thus, I know how she feels.  And, thus, I comprehend her youthful rambunctiousness.  And I do not want it to fade any quicker than it has to. 

But someday it will be nice to sit, with her by my side, just being.  And having that be enough.

(Emmett, by the way, totally gets it.  He was just fine sitting in Mommy's or Daddy's arms doing nothing more than watching the horizon.  Somehow I have a feeling that won't last.)