I kiss my sweet boy on the forehead, utter the last word of the familiar bedtime song, and then start to make my way toward the door of my son’s bedroom. In my mind, I am already am putting together a “to do” list for what I can accomplish while he is sleeping. I am on a determined mission to accomplish much, to busy myself with all that needs to be done, and to fulfill the expectations which I have set for myself for the day. Yet, as I turn to walk out the door, my son catches my hand and grips it as if to say, “Just a little while longer, mommy.” I stop and turn toward him as he looks up at me, his eyes gleaming with a love that penetrates deep into the depths of my heart. I pull in close to him, and at the same time, he responds with delightful giggles and outstretched hands. He is not ready to drift off to sleep, but rather, he wants a few more moments with the one he loves. This, to him, is of greatest importance. All else fades in comparison.
My heart is touched, for once again, this precious son of mine, has spoken to my heart. He does not teach me by any spoken words, but rather through the simplicity of his life. My life so often is just the opposite of simple; rather it becomes filled. Yes, filled to the brim. Filled with the weight of expectations which I place upon myself–expectations to have the house cleaned, laundry done, bills paid, schedules set, people called, “the good mom” tasks completed, and devotions checked off the list. Yet, the continuous pursuit to somehow base my worth on performance leaves me exhausted, worn down, and feeling like I fall short over and over again.
As I now close the door to his room, I am left with these questions and thoughts that go deep into my soul: What truly is the definition of “simplicity” as it relates to my very being? Could it be that I have not fully grasped onto what it really means? Is my life moving farther from simplicity and becoming more complicated as I seek find satisfaction in all that I can accomplish as a wife, a mother, and a friend? Maybe my life was meant to reflect the same kind of simplicity that my son models for me in these very moments. His life is not defined by what he accomplishes, but rather by the fact that he is cherished, and that is enough for him. He does not try to impress, nor does he seek to accomplish much. He has chosen to simply exist as one who is loved.
Lord, I too, want to choose to live by this kind of simplicity. Instead of focusing on fulfilling expectations, I want to find myself seeking that which is of greatest importance: Your heart. I want to be the one that reaches out to You again and again, and at the end of the day, gaze into your lovely face, just a little while longer.