Sublime Times

It's pleasing to be caught off guard by a sublime moment. This happened to me yesterday when K and I were entering our 8th hour of being cooped up in the house due to our lingering colds and the threat of rain. We had been warned all day that a bad thunderstorm was coming, and sure enough, as if on cue, at 3 pm the skies opened up and torrents of rain pummeled our little neighborhood.  I wasn't sure if he would care about observing the weather or not, but still I decided to pick him up and show him the rain, first by opening up our front door to feel the humid air and watch the streets, the sidewalks, our porch, and our garden get doused.  After a few loud thundercracks and rancorous lightning, I decided we'd better get back inside, so we moved over to our big cozy chair and had a seat while we watched the action from our window. He loved it!  Who would've known he could sit there, rapt, watching the sheets of rain pounding down.  We sat that way, quietly observing through our window, for a good 10 minutes (which in toddler-dom is equivalent to half a lifetime).  All of a sudden I was overcome by a feeling of gratitude about ... well, everything.  Pausing to appreciate the power of a summer storm while feeling cozy and secure, appreciating little K's physical closeness and imagining the scene through his eyes ... feeling conscious of the experience, wanting to remember it long after the moment had passed, was like leaving a mental bookmark at this page of my life.  All too often I'm zooming through the days, looking for time to pass, waiting for K's next naptime or the next time I can take a break.  A sermon I once heard made mention of the fact that time with a young child is "holy".  It was nice to have an experience like this as a testament to that notion, and to remind me to slow down and enjoy the serenity.