Kairos is God’s time. It’s time outside of time. It’s metaphysical time. Kairos is those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day, and I cherish them. – Glennon Melton, Momastery
This idea of taking a pause to really see the beauty around you is from this post from Glennon Melton of Momastery, and it has always stuck with me. My daily life can be exhausting, frustrating, and overwhelming. I have begun to truly appreciate the idea, however, that it is also fleeting. My children are growing and changing at breakneck speed. I know I must find ways, every day, to cherish not just them but this pretty decent life I live despite the exhaustion, frustration, and annoyances I may encounter. So, I look to my “Kairos” moments for help. Moments when time stands still. Moments when I hit pause to feel, think, and enjoy.
This weekend was packed. We had three soccer games Saturday morning, normal weekend errands and cleaning in the afternoon, and an evening of trick-or-treating and socializing with a large group of friends. Sunday the girls had church and religious education, two soccer games, and more errands and cleaning that I could not finish before our Halloween party on Saturday. I managed to find some time to pause, however, as we hurtled through those days.
Saturday morning I dragged all three girls to the soccer field, arriving by 8:30 in full gear. Natalie had a game at 8:45, the baby had her instructional time at 9, and Olivia had a game at 10. I was tired, cold, and feeling “over” soccer. Because the baby’s class and Natalie’s game overlapped times I had to stand in between the two fields dividing my attention between the girls. As many know, Natalie underwent spinal surgery in May of 2014. It took her a year to get back onto the soccer field and, even then, her first season back was tough. She was stiff and had very little stamina. This fall, however, she is playing much better and I’m so proud of her perseverance. As I cheered for the baby who had kicked her ball through two cones I looked up to check on Natalie’s game. Just at that moment the ball came in her direction. Natalie, playing defense, charged it and kicked that ball clear across the field to her teammate on offense. I heard her coaches cheering her name, saw the elated look on her face, and I smiled from ear to ear. My Natalie is back.
While folding the laundry in my bedroom on Saturday afternoon, my ears tuned in to the sound of Olivia singing. She has the most beautiful voice, in my very biased opinion, and she sings in a choir and has voice lessons to help cultivate it. She sings almost every chance she can get and this afternoon I heard her singing, very softly, “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Miserables—my absolute favorite Broadway song. I stopped folding and crept toward her bedroom door and simply stood there listening to her sweet voice and loving her so much I thought my heart would burst.
Sunday afternoon, I returned, frozen, from sitting through two hours of soccer on a very windy field. I found my husband near our fire pit—stoking a fire he had made while I was gone. He looked up at me and smiled in welcome. For perhaps the umpteenth time in our relationship I looked at him, my stomach fluttered a bit, and I thought, wow. So I sat with him for a few minutes, enjoying him and the warmth of the fire.
Monday mornings can be difficult for me. Often I feel depleted from our busy weekends as my brain shifts to our long, busy week ahead. This Monday I walked into the baby’s room chanting my normal, “time to get up my baby”. I kept up my soft chatter to her as I picked out her clothes for the day but then I turned to look at her. She had yet to even stir and was still completely covered up with blankets, holding her Elmo snugly against her. I sat on her bed, leaned in to rest my face on hers and spent a full minute breathing in her sweetness, filling myself up for the day ahead.
This fall I have felt particularly overwhelmed and exhausted. I feel as if I’m working very hard to stay positive, motivated, and healthy. As we careen into the holiday season, I know I may need to work even harder. I also know that my “Kairos” moments, my chances to pause, will pull me through.