About a week and a half ago, the boys and I stopped by the Sacra's house to drop off some fresh eggs for them from our little flock of hens. We were on our way home from Josiah's choir class so we got to the Sacra's a little before 5:30, just before all the family members came home, just before dinner time. And there I had a revelation...
I've written on the blog before about how that hour of the day often seems to be a "piranha hour" for us, with the munchkins tired and hungry and circling, ready to snap their little jaws at me and each other, and I suppose I'm the biggest piranha of them all since I too often find myself at the end of my figurative rope by that hour of the day, ready to be rescued by Jeff who walks in the door exhausted by his long day at work and ready for some peace and quiet. Fortunately, I have seen some improvement in how we all relate to each other during this time; and I'm hopeful that as the boys grow and mature (and as I mature and become more like Jesus), this hour of the day will become easier and more refreshing for each of us. But despite the improvement, it still wasn't a time of day that I looked forward to; in fact, my attitude was more like, "Well, let's just get through this the best we can."
I've also mentioned a time or two how that time of evening can be a melancholy time for me, particularly when it's winter, particularly when I have pregnancy or postpartum hormones flowing through me! :) I certainly don't get the blues every evening, but once in a while I do...and again, my attitude was more focused on pushing through and "surviving" that time of day, rather than celebrating it.
However, in an instant, I glimpsed an alternative view of that time of day. When the door of the Sacra's home was opened to me, I caught sight of the table nicely set, the delicious aroma of supper cooking, and the feeling of WELCOME that rushed out. Suddenly I realized, "This is the very nicest time of day." Before we could even pull ourselves away from their house (our delay due, in large part, to David's insistence on showing every member of their family the band-aid he had on his finger because of a little scratch he got), several members of their family arrived home from work or whatever activities they were involved in; and I realized how sweet it must be to come home every evening after a long day and be warmly welcomed by family who has been missing you and waiting for your arrival all day long. In my role as the welcoming committee in our home, I don't get to experience the other side of it! But I saw, more clearly than ever before, the beauty of those moments of gathering together, complete as a family after a day apart; and even more, I was inspired to continue my quest for excellence even in that sometimes difficult, hungry, tired, grumpy, stretched-as-a-mother hour.
Back in June of 2007, I had included in one of my blog posts, a quote from the book A Lantern in Her Hand that describes the specialness of that time of day. As I've reflected on the scene at the Sacra's, my thoughts have come back to that portion of Aldrich's book. I needed to be reminded of it.
Another reminder came in a marriage book I finished reading just this week, Lasting Marriage: The Owners' Manual by Harvey Yoder. In it, he includes this quote from Green Mountain Farm by Elliott Merrick. The summer smoke is coming blue out of the chimney, and the window in the kitchen shows yellow. The house looks so incredibly cozy and desirable in the midst of this fiercely beautiful and merciless landscape; it is enough to tear your soul out by its roots. Into my mind comes the realization that here I am, now, out of all time and space, here in this place. And I say to myself, This is my home. My woman. A baby. Two babies. Simple things like that.
All of this combines to persuade me to change my head and heart--to no longer call it "piranha hour" but rather "coming home hour," to pursue the path of making my home a peaceful and safe haven after sometimes stormy days away, to realize that even if Josiah and David are having a silly squabble over some toy and even if Tobin has a dirty diaper that needs changed and even if supper isn't ready (or even worse, is burned) and even if no cloth napkins are on the table and no soft music is playing... Even then, as the family gathers together once more, it's the sweetest kind of homecoming; and I'll treasure it each time.
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4 comments:
how sensible and thoughtful! i, too, am guilty of this, and could also realign my thinking.
Thanks for sharing this Davene! As one on the receiving end of "the very nicest time of day" it is a blessing to know that mom will always have supper ready even though she does it day after day after day! I'm glad you all could come over this evening and we could play with the boys! :-)
Oh Davene... I hope you know and understand that it isn't ALWAYS that way at our home. You have to remember that #1, I'm not pregnant, #2, My kids are much older than yours and #3, I'm not pregnant. Yes, I know #1 and #3 are the same, but they are HUGE in my book. Pregnancy and dinner time did NOT go together well for me. Give yourself some slack, you're doing a great job!
Thanks for coming this evening, I really enjoyed it!
You have inspired me! Too often suppertime is a hectic time with crying going on around here (as I prepare supper, that is). I want to strive for a better time in the evening, keeping in mind what you pointed out, that it is a time of coming together as a family.
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