So soft

"She's so soft," he says as he gently strokes her cheek, and hair, and hands. "Why is she so soft? I'm not so soft. Annie is still soft and Mackenzie is a little soft, but I'm not very soft."

"She's still very new. Her skin is new and hasn't been changed or damaged by the sun or swimming pool or other stuff in the environment."

"I like how soft she is," he says, his six-year-old voice almost a whisper.

Me, too. I know that it won't last, this softness, this tenderness, this sensitivity to every sort of stimulation.

It is the nature of our world; the nature of life; the nature of experience.

Over time we lose our "softness". We lose our sensitivity. We become more rough, more hardened, and it changes us.

I silently pray again to be a little more like my children...to view the world with simplicity, to hear and receive God's word without doubt, to love with abandon, to laugh uncontrollably, to dance any time and any place just for pure joy, to hug with all my might, and to forgive quickly without long-term recall of wrongs committed against me.

I want to regain, or maintain, some of the softness.

Family: What I've Learned from Sunday Lunches

When I think about the things that are most important to me, I recall warm kitchens, a gentle caress, the sound of excited voices as they watch a football game, and the continual smiles shared by my family.

This group of people became a part of my life the moment I was born and has taught me to live each moment after.

Through struggles and celebrations they have shown me how much can be accomplished during a Sunday afternoon lunch.

They've allowed me to see that life isn't a race to be run as quickly as possible, but it's more like baking a cake. Once you've combined all the ingredients and mixed them well, it's best to let yourself sit quietly for awhile as the sweet aroma of your actions encompasses you. Your work becomes a masterpiece and the greatest joy comes when you share it with others.

Oh yes... that's how my family responds to life, like a Sunday lunch.

At first we admire its beauty, but we don't allow it to remain untouched long enough to spoil. We consume it and enjoy each flavor. There are times that life is as sour as the lemonade that someone forgot to add sugar to, or the pickles that sit in the shadow of the potato salad, but then there are also moments when it is as sweet as apple pie with ice cream melting over the sides.

Life combines the warms and the colds, the sweets and the sours, the goods and the bads, until you have that perfect combination that cannot be resisted, but only enjoyed. And when it is all over, you look back with satisfaction at all that you've experienced.