It’s crazy to believe it’s already been a year since we were
in Myrtle Beach. It’s hard to believe it’s been exactly two months since I
graduated college. And it’s wild to think Noah and I have already been married
for three weeks. Time is such a strange concept. It’s the endless mystery, the
timeless enigma. I’m a believer that I’ll never fully understand it, nor will I
ever cease to say “it feels like just yesterday…”
Time flies.
I think about seasons often. I love living in a locale with
all four seasons. While I always think summer’s my favorite (and it is), I’m
always ready for the change of scenery, the change of pace that comes with each new season. There’s so much
beauty in every season, both in nature and in life.
I recently had a shift in mindset regarding my relationship
with time. For the past number of years I’ve been looking ahead, constantly
counting down the days until the next big thing. I’ve anxiously awaited trips,
vacations, summer breaks, Christmas, a new job, being done with summer classes,
graduating from college, and the big one—getting married to the love of my
life. For nearly five years, this big focal point has held my attention with
longing; I’ve gazed ahead into the future, dreaming, counting down days, weeks,
months, years, pleading with time to speed up so the day would get here sooner.
Now here we are. June 10th served as a turning point. Like the point
at the center of a teeter-totter, the weight of forever shifted and the balance
beam began tilting in the other direction. I'm no longer anxiously waiting for time to speed up.
I'm begging for time to slow down.
I saw this coming, as the days drew nearer and we were
closer and closer to the wedding day. I noticed myself holding on tighter to
the moments, realizing how quickly time slips by. I knew the second we were
married that I no longer wanted to wish away the time. No, my desire is in
fact quite opposite. I want the time to slow, so that I can fully experience
the beautiful, heavy weight of each moment, of each simple second of every day.
I want to enjoy folding basketball shorts and socks, washing Tupperware and
vacuuming floors. I want to hold onto quiet moments on the patio, soak up every
walk through the allotment, grocery store visit, library trip, Nala walk.
No longer am I wishing away today in exchange for a handful
of tomorrows. Instead I hold tightly to today, letting every breath energize my
soul, surging through my body, extending to the tips of my fingers and toes. I
am learning to appreciate the present, this very moment in time. This moment in
which goodbyes are extinct and today seamlessly melts into tomorrow, this new
ebb and flow of life, like the peaceful waves of the ocean lapping rhythmically
onto shore.
I’ve spent so much time worrying about what’s next, focusing
on figuring out where God wants me and what job He has in store for me. But I’ve
come to truly appreciate this season of waiting and simply living. I fully
trust that His timing is perfect, and He’s been proving Himself again and again
by opening and closing doors at just the right times.
I’m realizing that this season, no matter how limited it may
be, is so rich; it’s a moment in time that I can’t and won't get back. But I’m so thankful for the
time I’ve been given to fully enjoy this beautiful season of being home with my
husband, settling into our home together, spending time as husband and wife,
and simply having an abundance of time to enjoy each other. This season won’t
last forever; I know that God has a job for me just around the corner, and Noah
will start up school again in just a couple of months. But now, this moment in
time, is a beautiful gift, one that I am more than joyful to live to the
fullest and hold onto with a grateful heart. Here’s to enjoying the now, the
beauty of this season, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, by enjoying this
moment in time, time itself will feel like it’s slowing down.
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