I Wonder as I Squander

Today, I am feeling the weight of what is about to happen:  I have one daughter already gone and living 500 miles away, and two more are leaving in a week.  One is going about 250 miles southwest, and the other about 100 miles southeast.  


I wrote to my Mom last night, because I usually go to my Mom when I don't know what to do.  I said this:  "They're all leaving.  Make it stop."


And because I know my mother well, I know she is feeling my pain, feeling tears sting her eyes like they do mine, and all the while knowing that I'll get through it just fine, because she did.


It is as life goes.  It is the repeating of things over and over again.  My turn.


Paul encouraged me today.  He had no idea when he wrote that letter to the Corinthian church that Jenny's heart would be lifted by what he said.  But that's God for you -- 


^1-10Companions as we are in this work with you, we beg you, please don't squander one bit of this marvelous life God has given us. 


I know Paul is talking to people in the church at Corinth who seem to be going on about their lives as if nothing had changed.  I realise that he's concerned about opportunities they might have to change lives in their community, to introduce their neighbors to Christ, to be examples, to let their lives be arrows pointing straight to God.


But he is also talking to me.  He's telling me that time is valuable, precious, gone in a wink.  So don't squander it; don't waste time fussing about who did the dishes when you could be hugging her and telling her how amazing she is and how convinced you are she'll conquer every challenge.


Not that the dishes don't have to get done.  OK, tell her that while you're doing the dishes with her.  Maybe squirt some water or snap a dishtowel and laugh a lot.


I have heard people tell me this all my life:  every moment I have with my daughter is precious.  So every moment in one daughter's life, times five -- how did I get to be the one who won the lottery and hit the jackpot when it came to precious moments? I don't know, don't really care -- I just want to be highly mindful of it, not be looking back all the time at those moments I did squander with my own selfishness.  I want to look ahead.  The moments aren't over, they're just spread a little further apart with physical distance.


And it is so much easier to enjoy them now that there aren't all these little high-pitched voices screaming and talking and arguing over whose turn it is to do the dishes.


I need a sign somewhere in my house -- maybe in the kitchen somewhere -- that says "no squandering allowed."  Get out the map.  Quit squandering around.  


And squander over here and let's get some dishes done.


xoxox