Free indeed

Last week, we went to the beach.  I'll save some of the other photos and stories for another post I'll probably never get around to creating.  Tonight, as I was looking through these photos, I felt the need to share yet another lesson I learned from my kids.

As we walked towards the water, we saw the beach was totally deserted other than one lone soul who was walking her dog in the distance...clad in jeans and a windbreaker.  I realized then it may be a little chilly for the kids to be in so few clothes, but Eve insisted she was fine.  

Since the water was so choppy, I knew neither of the kids would attempt to get in the water without me by their side, so I pulled out my camera and enjoyed snapping some non-phone photos.  

It doesn't take much to entertain these kids.  It doesn't have to be something fancy or loud to catch their eye.  I don't have to lead them in a game or micro-manage their play.  They enjoy conjuring up imaginary worlds and assigning made up names and identities to one another.

They see the wonder in the crazy beautiful world around them.  Just the surface of the gulf overwhelmed them.  When they learned of its depths and what lay in them, their eyes grew large and the questions started flowing.   

Over the last couple of years, I've really felt compelled to simplify everything.  My thoughts, calendar, wardrobe, relationships...everything.  I realized how much stuff I was missing because of all the other stuff I was stuffing into my day and mind.  That's a lot of stuff. 

Just recently have I felt that I'm really seeing the people and things around me and enjoying them for who and what they are.  Flawed.  Beautiful.  Complex.  Valuable.  

It hurts when I allow myself to think about how I have and still do allow the world to obscure my view of what's really around me.  I've heard these hurts from the lips of others around me, as well.  The opinions and images we're inundated with from this world can be stifling.

You have too many kids.

You should really have another kid or two.

You should really get your kids involved in activities.

You're probably screwing your kids up by homeschooling them.

Your kids play too much.

Your kids should wear shoes more often.

You need to learn more scripture.

You need to stop being such a holy roller.

You are too creative.

Your wardrobe is archaic.

You cook too much.

You should read more.

You should be on the computer less.

You're an awful person for not monitoring your kids' every movement.

You need to lay off your kids.

Your family eats too much junk.

Your kids eat too much fruit.

You spend too much money on groceries.

You should coupon.

You should be more involved at church.

You should limit your kids' screen time.

You should let your kids watch more tv.

You shouldn't live so far out...

Enough.  Enough, I declare for us all.

 I'm ready to enjoy life like this gal.  The water may be freezing, and I'm at the beach in my ballerina getup for no reason other than it makes me happy, but I'm gonna jump in those waves. 

I'm going to create beautiful things for enjoyment.  I'm gonna cook good food and savor it around the table with people I love and sometimes share it with people I've never met before. 

I want to have an unobscured view of the insanely beautiful and complex world surrounding me.  Sometimes this will mean seeing pain and suffering, and I pray an open, flexible schedule allows me to soothe and shoulder it when I encounter it.  Other times it will mean grabbing my kids to come closer, to dig in with me and see something so beautiful and amazing, I can't help but stop and share it with them.  

I pray for the courage to stand alone when I need to.

 I want to savor.  To feel joy and wonder.  To smile.  

Instead of jumping through hoops, I'm jumping in with her because she knows the truth.  We are not meant to be slaves to this world.  The world and all it holds is temporary.  People matter.  When we grasp the truth that we aren't created to follow the masses, expend all our energy/time/money on stuff,  and model our life to fit the mold shaped by the annoyingly loud, exhausting world around us, we can be free. 

Free indeed.