We're back at work. Our son is in two-a-day football practices. Our daughter started back up with piano lessons. The eight-inch high lawn has been mowed. Life is back in rhythm.
And still my heart is treasuring our memories.
The 3,000 miles of car time, listening to music together and playing the license plate game.
The Smoky Mountain beauty and the quiet cabin we called home for a week.
The family board game nights after long hikes and a soak in the hot tub.
The morning our kids officiated our family church service.
The many new food experiences we introduced our children to (hello Irish food!) and the many, many candy shops we visited in little mountain towns.
The fun of seeing a son tackle a rock wall.
The delight of seeing my daughter get eye to eye with the largest butterfly she had ever seen.
The trees, the mountain paths, the waterfalls, and the whispered "wows."
The early morning silence as I drank my coffee on the cabin porch with the people I love more than life still asleep in the stillness.
And yes, we are back in the rhythm of real life. But, it's a richer life than it was before.
It has a new layer of memory. A new depth of togetherness. A deeper longing for hollowed out quiet in the midst of the everyday noise.
So, I find myself praying an old prayer, but with more fervor than before.
Lord, don't let the drums of "real life" play so loud in our ears that we can not hear your voice. Tune our hearts to you so that we never miss a moment of "wow." And keep calling us aside, to the stillness and to the sacred.
