Slow down. Take a deep breath. What’s the hurry?
Why wear yourself out? Just what are you after anyway? – Jeremiah 2:25
Cease striving and know that I am God” Psalm 46:10
Christmas leaves in its wake an ease I find liberating. The days after, feel slow. The flip side of a whirlwind of preparation reveals a future open wide for reflection. The holy pause of contemplation. A generous helping of selah before the rush of a new year. Suddenly we have time.
A slower pace is perfectly matched for the way I’m hearing from God. Slowing down helps me see Him. When I realize He’s already here I notice Him everywhere. Sort of like my gold Honda odyssey. Since buying one a few years ago, they seem to be everywhere. I see four in a three block walk to the subway – regularly. Gold Honda Odyssey’s are apparently…a thing.
This revelation was an epiphany of sorts and one long in coming. It allowed me to relax into the season with fresh perspective. I can chill out about the to do list because I’ll find God in the middle of my dirty kitchen. He’d take that last-minute late night run to Target. Hold my hand when I feel frustrated. Nothing like a toy kitchen that takes 6 hours to assemble to help you remember the truly meditative process of slow.
Even my walk towards the chaos of Christmas was slow. My choice to “be joy”, make it happen – intentional. There were moments when I had to smile when I didn’t want to, areas of tension smoothed with a deliberate measure of grace…conversations I tried to avoid…that happened anyway. But it’s a choice. I want Him to be the river of peace I walk on.
I want to savor the season, let it linger long, simmering as it were, warm and tasty on my tongue. This season my usual 3,2,1 Jesus jump is a glide. It’s slow and thoughtful…a lyrical melding and continuous motion. It’s about finding myself adrift in quiet conversation – celebrating the flow of communion with God.
What better way to do that than to remember and reclaim family traditions that force me to slow down.
I remember outings with my godmother during the holidays. Every year she’d take us for a Christmas walk. We’d walk around our neighborhood to see holiday decorations. We’d peek in windows. We’d talk and laugh. A brisk walk during the holiday forced us to slow down. Sometimes we’d ride the subway to see the Christmas windows at Lord and Taylor. My husband has similar memories. Why haven’t we done this with our children?
Native New Yorker’s take for granted the beauty of NYC. If you stay here long enough a serious “been there done that” vibe can overtake you. That definitely happened to me. Thankfully, the arrival of LiChai and Ila put it in remission. I wanted to show them everything. Our decision to homeschool was largely influenced by where we live. LiChai and Ila grew up riding around in a double stroller hearing my “Manhattan belongs to me” mantra. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Central Park, 125th Street, Prospect Park, the Botanic Gardens…we saw and experienced it all. Regularly and on purpose.
More children meant less time. I lost a little of my zeal for all things New York. Mind you, I still loved it but I lost the drive needed to be the biggest promoter of all things New York. I never had the time. It’s a strange paradox. The busier I am the less I enjoy any of the things I’m doing. And the less productive I feel. Is it like that for you?
So living slow in New York means remembering and reclaiming all the things I love about it. Last night we relived a childhood memory and took a walk. No schedule. No appointment necessary and admission was free. Last night slow told a story. Last night I listened.
5th Avenue. Happy children. Department store windows. A cathedral. A door. A star.
Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight…#GiveMeGrace
♥