Making Memories
My mom's face fell as she told me the weather forecast for Saturday. "It's going to be rainy. My plan is not going to work." I frowned a little, too, because I could see the disappointment on her face. I didn't know the plan for Saturday because it was supposed to be a surpise for my twenty-first birthday, but apparently it wasn't going to happen as my mom had hoped and planned.
As it turned out, she had been scheming to take my sister and I to Magic Springs, an amusement and water park about an hour away. But without the sunshine, no water park. And with the rain, no roller coasters. My mom was so disheartened as she explained, "I just wanted to make a memory for your twenty-first birthday."
Instead, we just hung around the house on Saturday, just like we have been doing the past two weeks that I have been home.
I biked with dad on the tandem, and we hit forty-two miles per hour going down hill with a speed limit 30 sign. "Hey dad, do traffic laws apply to cyclists, too?" He answered, "Yep, and if I ever got a speeding ticket on a bicycle, I'd frame it!"
I walked on the golf course at sunset with mom. We talked about anything and everything as we watched the sun go down in beautiful color, the sky turn dark, and the lightning bugs come out.
I played the old wooden piano in our living room for hours, learning new songs and repeating old ones. The weighed keys and full wooden tone rang much more richly compared to the short keyboard with only 61 keys that I usually played in the dorm. It sounded like home, especially when my mom snuck up behind me and sang along.
I tied my blue apron with yellow ducks around my waist and helped Mom cook dinner almost every night. After dinner, the four in our family lounged on the floor for a game of dominoes. We can't be together very long without laughing, so soon the whole house filled with the playful sound of joy.
My sister and I spent several days making a Mothers' Day video for mom, and it is pretty hilarious, but I promised her I would not show anyone except our family. It might be blackmail material, but we had the time of our lives making it.
Even though we didn't go to Magic Springs on Saturday, we were making memories. Sometimes it is not the big things that make the best memories. Sometimes it is the simple things, like bikes and aprons and dominoes and silly videos. These are the moments that I will never forget.
I hung my hammock in the backyard and swung in it every morning as I read my Bible. I asked God to teach me something new about Himself in these two weeks between the end of school and my departure for Tanzania.
God faithfully answered my request, but it wasn't the firework-type answer that I was expecting. God's answers aren't always big. Sometimes it is the simple, small things about the Lord that are the things I will never forget. Just like I don't need roller coasters to make a memory on my twenty-first birthday, I don't need something like fireworks to teach me about God. Just a hammock and quiet mornings.
Instead of teaching me something entirely new about Himself, He gently reminded me of something very old and precious. He reminded me that His presence is peace.
I am so used to the fast-paced college life with Harding devotionals every other night of the week, chapel every day, and Bible class three times a week. I am used to my relationship with God being like a speeding higway where every new turn brings rapid spiritual growth. And I love that kind of wild ride with the Lord.
But I also love swinging in my hammock, slowly back and forth, breathing God's love in and out like time does not exist. I whisper to Him and He whispers back, My presence is what you are seeking, what you are needing, what you are breathing. And in His simple presence, I find joy. It is these simple moments with simple reminders that I will never forget.
Forget Magic Springs and fireworks from God. I don't need a big event or a roller coaster ride to make a memory. I don't need a big event or a roller coaster ride to find God. I am learning the simple way. Making memories is about family. And knowing God is about stillness. Both so simple, but both I will never forget.
As it turned out, she had been scheming to take my sister and I to Magic Springs, an amusement and water park about an hour away. But without the sunshine, no water park. And with the rain, no roller coasters. My mom was so disheartened as she explained, "I just wanted to make a memory for your twenty-first birthday."
Instead, we just hung around the house on Saturday, just like we have been doing the past two weeks that I have been home.
I biked with dad on the tandem, and we hit forty-two miles per hour going down hill with a speed limit 30 sign. "Hey dad, do traffic laws apply to cyclists, too?" He answered, "Yep, and if I ever got a speeding ticket on a bicycle, I'd frame it!"
I walked on the golf course at sunset with mom. We talked about anything and everything as we watched the sun go down in beautiful color, the sky turn dark, and the lightning bugs come out.
I played the old wooden piano in our living room for hours, learning new songs and repeating old ones. The weighed keys and full wooden tone rang much more richly compared to the short keyboard with only 61 keys that I usually played in the dorm. It sounded like home, especially when my mom snuck up behind me and sang along.
I tied my blue apron with yellow ducks around my waist and helped Mom cook dinner almost every night. After dinner, the four in our family lounged on the floor for a game of dominoes. We can't be together very long without laughing, so soon the whole house filled with the playful sound of joy.
My sister and I spent several days making a Mothers' Day video for mom, and it is pretty hilarious, but I promised her I would not show anyone except our family. It might be blackmail material, but we had the time of our lives making it.
Even though we didn't go to Magic Springs on Saturday, we were making memories. Sometimes it is not the big things that make the best memories. Sometimes it is the simple things, like bikes and aprons and dominoes and silly videos. These are the moments that I will never forget.
I hung my hammock in the backyard and swung in it every morning as I read my Bible. I asked God to teach me something new about Himself in these two weeks between the end of school and my departure for Tanzania.
God faithfully answered my request, but it wasn't the firework-type answer that I was expecting. God's answers aren't always big. Sometimes it is the simple, small things about the Lord that are the things I will never forget. Just like I don't need roller coasters to make a memory on my twenty-first birthday, I don't need something like fireworks to teach me about God. Just a hammock and quiet mornings.
Instead of teaching me something entirely new about Himself, He gently reminded me of something very old and precious. He reminded me that His presence is peace.
I am so used to the fast-paced college life with Harding devotionals every other night of the week, chapel every day, and Bible class three times a week. I am used to my relationship with God being like a speeding higway where every new turn brings rapid spiritual growth. And I love that kind of wild ride with the Lord.
But I also love swinging in my hammock, slowly back and forth, breathing God's love in and out like time does not exist. I whisper to Him and He whispers back, My presence is what you are seeking, what you are needing, what you are breathing. And in His simple presence, I find joy. It is these simple moments with simple reminders that I will never forget.
Forget Magic Springs and fireworks from God. I don't need a big event or a roller coaster ride to make a memory. I don't need a big event or a roller coaster ride to find God. I am learning the simple way. Making memories is about family. And knowing God is about stillness. Both so simple, but both I will never forget.
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