In this season of my life, the one I imagined would be mine to live out hidden dreams, the pace has slowed, and I push hard to hold back the urge to hurry. Hurry to get through the necessary so that I can do the other. The irony is when I have finally conquered the necessary and rushed into the other - it tends to feel a bit empty.
It doesn't compare to moments spent walking ever so slowly beside her. I take her hand in mine to help her navigate the rough places. She looks up with a tender smile and says, "I used to do this for you."
It hardly measures up to slowing down a bit for a husband who put his life on hold to care for me. In the weeks following major back surgery, there was nothing for him but my needs.I remember his strong arm supporting me when I began to take those first tentative steps. How do we measure such things?
Dreams are lovely things. I have them still. Perhaps it is these moments, this slowing of body and soul, that usher in the dream after all.
Joining my lovely, brave friend Laura today: