That Little Voice

There is that little voice…it spoke to me this morning, quite early. I am not able to sleep. It’s a common theme, but I don’t quit trying. Bill will make his way to work at anywhere between 4am and 5am Monday through Friday. I will lay awake and watch him go about his business getting ready for work. He gently kisses my forehead and whispers sweet things as he makes his way to work. In those moments when the bed just gets a little bit colder and emptier, I have the tendency to feel a bit sorry for myself. The silence surrounds me and teases me all at the same time. I want to nestle in and drift a bit with the glimmer of sleep tapping at my eyelids.

Today was not the same as every other morning. Today, there was that little voice inside my head that said, “Get up, right now”. It was a distinct moment where I clearly heard it and thought it strange that my “inside voice” was so loud. So, I listened.

I slide out of bed wondering what I would do until the moment the alarm went off. Clearly I couldn’t read a book. That little voice told me to get up. I busied myself with housekeeping items and waited until an appropriate time to shower without feeling guilty about making noise to wake up the kids (who am I kidding…they are teenagers and can sleep through the strongest of storms or at the very least my pleas for them to get up and get ready for school).

I got ready for work. Still ½ hour until the kids got up and I was at a loss. I could do more cleaning, I could fold laundry or I could listen to that little voice…the one that was eerily silent right now.

I decide to take the dog out and let her play in the yard. It is a brisk morning for May. I notice that there must have been a light shower during the overnight and that is when I saw it…the reason why I was meant to listen to that little voice. There it was, a beauty I would have missed-drops of water on the leaves of the plants in my garden. I have taken thousands of pictures of my flowers in bloom-their vivid colors dancing in the breeze. I had never seen the water dance on their leaves like this before and it seemed like almost a dream like state that I am in.

 

This morning, there was no breeze. Only the silence of the well balanced water droplets poised on the leaves and the flowers glistening and beckoning to me.

I rush inside to get the camera. I didn’t want to miss a moment. Pause here…I have owned this camera for years, don’t know where the owner’s manual is, and have yet to master the settings and really don’t know if the batteries are even charged! Panic ensues. Quickly, I realize that the worry was unfounded. The batteries were fine and I was rushing back out the door.

I start playing with the settings and the lights and the flowers and the leaves and in this little window that I am gazing through, I am unsure of if I am actually capturing what my eye was seeing. I am excited and nervous and snap some pictures and rush in to the house to hook up to my computer.

By this time, my kids are up and bustling to get ready and they have no idea that I am inwardly doing mental cartwheels. They have no idea that that little voice in my head is getting louder…willing the computer to turn on faster and the pictures to load quicker.

Favorite of all the shots-notice the drop on almost the very top left tip of the leaf where the drop looks like it is in the process of evaporating...so exciting. 

Suddenly-there they are-certainly not award winning, but to me they are everything! The way the light is bouncing off the water droplets makes me feel such a thrill. The way the flowers hold on to the droplets with the purple shining through…glistening. I am thrilled beyond words.

I silently thank that little voice in my head. I will listen to it more often. Clearly, in those moments when I am feeling groggy and unfocused, I need to take a moment to listen. I might hear that little voice direct me where I am meant to be. 

Driving out of my Heart

The other day, I was a passenger in a car and I spotted my son driving in his car about a half a block ahead of us. I had a very emotional reaction. I was immediately taken back to when I was holding him in my arms and whispering, “I love you,” to him for the first time. Why the reaction?

When Dylan first went to do his school for driving, I recall feeling like I had to pinch myself. Was this for real? Where did my little boy go? I hoped that Dylan took on driving better than he took on riding a bike. A look into my back seat confirmed what I already knew-there were no more car seats, no more kid’s fingerprints on the windows, no cheerios and fruit snacks strewn across the floor and the seats. Now, my vehicle was a bare canvas. My heart ached.

Dylan got his license and has taken much pride in the car that his Dad passed down to him. He keeps it clean, doesn’t like to have any junk in it and is very careful about where he parks it so as not to get it dinged.

All of a sudden it seemed, it was BJ’s turn to go to school to get his license. I remember thinking, “Could this be possible?” Where did the time go? He passed his exam with flying colors and was handed the keys to his car.

  

I have felt over the past few years that my car called, “Life” has been speeding by at an out-of-control pace and I would like to slow it down. I want to seatbelt my kids in so that they stay near me. I want to check all my blind spots so I don’t miss telling them and teaching them all about life and what they can expect. I want them to arrive at wherever they are meant to be in life, safely and well equipped to handle anything the map of life gives them. I think about the lessons I have taught them about being cautious and yet I still want them to look out the windows and enjoy the ride.

I understand why my heart ached so much when I saw the familiar blue car ahead of us. I was no longer driving. I was no longer in control of how my kids get anywhere and it is a scary thought for me and yet one that fills me with pride. When the feelings rush over me about them driving right out of my heart I need to remember, I have handed them some amazing keys and I have to trust that they will proceed with caution, but know when to enjoy the ride.