Friday evening Ryan received word that he had been accepted to BYU and called us immediately to share the news. After celebrating on the phone, Chris looked at me and said, "well, it's really happening now, we've done our job and he's prepared - nice work." Ryan is still waiting to hear back from three other schools before making a final decision and I'm making every effort to make these last 6 months at home as meaningful as possible. There will truly be an emptiness in our home when Ryan leaves. I'll have to devote an entire post to "the things I'll miss the most when Ryan is gone," but for now, I'm cherishing our time together, especially our late night chats when we have a few minutes to connect after everyone else is in bed.
Life is transitory. Everything is in motion, shifting, changing. Little Elizabeth is literally transforming before my eyes, each day shedding her little girl appearance and gradually morphing into an almost pre-teen. Sigh.
The other night, around midnight after another snow storm had left it's mark with another foot of snow, I stepped outside for a short walk. It's been awhile since I made my way into that unique peaceful silence, reserved especially for nights like this. Although it's been a long winter, with no end of the cold, snow, and dreary days in sight; breathing that sharp, clean air into my lungs and listening to the soft crunch of snow under my boots while looking up at the brilliant, clear winter sky was transformative. Instead of complaining about this winter (for about 10 minutes ;), I was grateful for a moment in time when everything seemed perfect, yet transitory. Realizing that the next day, if I were to step outside at the same time, I could not recreate that moment. It wouldn't be the same. The snow would have time to settle, the air would be a different temperature, my boots wouldn't make fresh tracks, and the delicate ice crystals floating in the black sky would be nonexistent, and therefore, the rush of gratitude and happiness most likely would not take place.
Why do I muse about such moments in time? I suppose it's because while I was out connecting with winter and appreciating a small gift, my mind drifted to the constant shifting and changing within our own lives. Living a purposeful life requires adjustment to these changes without clinging to a version of how things used to be, or worse, an unrealistic expectation of how we think life should be now or in the future. I guess that's why embracing the transitory nature of all things, especially relationships, is essential. It's complex, but we change, the people around us change, and realizing the great potential in each transition is truly beautiful.
So, my life is in a flux of transition right now. Ryan's preparing to spread his wings and leave the nest, Caroline is anxiously awaiting her 16th birthday and drivers license, Sophie will be turning 12 soon and entering the young women's program, and Liza Lou is bound and determined at almost nine to be the most independent of them all. I am adjusting to the needs and demands of my little flock daily, and realize that without prayer, I am not as compassionate, patient, or adaptable. It's that simple. Prayer keeps me strong, helps me gain insights and wisdom I know I couldn't glean on my own, and gives me the quiet assurance that everything will work out, it always does.
