While I was shaving my legs in the shower, I hear intense loud knocking on the door. I say "come in!" not knowing what's about to happen...
Lazzy throws open the shower curtain with tears in his eyes and says "Well, my fire truck picture is just all broken up." and he melts into a sobbing mess.
Again, I have a razor in my hand and I'm naked. With the water running.
I try not to giggle at the situation, but it's hard to show true sympathy in those moments. It's just so awkward! Another thought crosses my mind - "why aren't DAN'S showers interrupted? Why is it always me? Can't I have some peace and quiet in the bathroom!?". Then I was reminded of this C.S. Lewis quote (which is so perfect for parents!):
“The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own’, or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life – the life God is sending one day by day: what one calls one’s ‘real life’ is a phantom of one’s own imagination.”
This is my life. I have 3 wonderful children who love me and each other. We live in this small Robbins community where there is love and fighting, forgiveness and many many "interruptions". My life isn't laundry. It's not dishes or scraping banana off the floors. No, life is so much more spontaneous than those things-the "interruptions" that become my most cherished memories, the stories we'll tell twenty years from now.
His firetruck drawing was his best yet. This sweet boy has gotten very serious about his art and school work. This particular picture was his favorite-his pride and joy. He hung it on the fridge a little too low and Ruthie Mae had her way with it. Lazarus was devastated.
I realized that this "interruption" was Lazarus giving me his heart. He was sad about his picture and because I'm his mother, he trusted that I would care. The "interruption" was an opportunity to love, not an inconvenience for me to grumble about
My sensitive, generous and thoughtful ninja will be four on Sunday.
He comes to me to fix his ninja mask 37 times a day. I need to remember that it's not only my job, but it's my joy, my life to stop what I'm doing and look into those sweet blue eyes and fix the boy's mask. Because it fills him up and it brings us peace and it shows love and it makes a difference. It's my life right now and I'm learning to embrace it.