As I was cleaning in my silent home, I began to ponder how fast it seems that life is happening. I know that everyone warned me that as soon as we had kids time would fly, but no one told me how exponentially quickly time would fly. So, here is today's revelation:
I was born in Evanston, IL. I remember my home on 5th Ave. in Des Plaines, IL. That was a couple decades ago, but still. I remember them, and still consider myself a city girl at heart. But there I was today, wearing oversized army green coveralls, standing in a building full of crying piglets pondering how fast time flies. 15 1/2 years ago I met this farm boy. I chuckled at the fact that he had grown up on a hog farm. I chuckled because there was something intriguing and interesting about this farm boy that I didn't know I would ever find attractive. Growing up I had always pictured a Parisian flat with my business suit clad husband rushing out the door to an important meeting. But here I am 15 years later, standing in a new hog barn surrounded by 1200 animals, being grateful for God's plan.
You see, this weekend, my kids are gone. And, since it is November, John is also gone in a tractor somewhere. This leaves me in an infrequently quiet house to ponder. So here I sit, avoiding all the chores that need to be done, saying thanks for the most amazing blessings. I have an amazing farmer husband, three beautiful and mostly well-behaved children, two dogs, some farm cats, and a great new business.
So, Father Time, please continue to tick away the minutes, but allow me a few days in the midst of it all to sit in this occasionally quiet house and give thanks for my blessings. And, as to the speed at which time seems to go by, allow me a clearer view at what is really important. Allow me to enjoy each passing moment and store it away for another one of these quiet days.
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