My children are no more extraordinary than any of God’s created beings. They are just as normal, just as sinful, just as talented, just as funny and just as good-looking as the next person’s children. Okay, maybe slightly more good-looking, but who really keeps track of those sorts of things?…
What my children do have, however, is a Mama who pays very close attention to what they do and say and who writes everything down. (For proof, just peruse the 70-ish blog posts I have “published” since January – sheesh!).
And this is what I had the pleasure of watching today…
The chance of rain teased us all afternoon. I don’t know who is pining for a shower the most, the grass or the Oklahomans who have to walk on it. But pining we all are. Some of our surrounding towns got up to 1/2 inch of rain by the end of the day; unfortunately, we didn’t get a drop. What we did get, though, was a decently cool breeze. My Mom and I, after cleaning up her supper dishes, scurried outside to enjoy it.
And imagine my surprise when I looked up to notice a rainbow forming in the ___ern sky. (I say “___ern” because I don’t know my directions and no one is awake to help me out…was it in the eastern sky? the northern sky? the southern? the western? Beats me!). It immediately struck me that it had been a long time since I had seen a rainbow. So long that I wasn’t even sure if Gideon had ever seen one, or at least one that he could remember. After pointing it out to Rebekah and realizing that she was not going to be able to locate it for awhile (girls are impossibly slow at spotting things in the distance), I jumped up from my rocking chair and ran inside to tell my son. The words “I have a big surprise for you!” helped spring him into action. We threw his cowboy boots on and ran out the front door.
In my short absence, the rainbow had grown, both in size and in vibrancy. Its colors pierced through the light blue sky.
I pulled Gideon to a halt on the sidewalk. “…Look.” I said, pointing in the ___ernly direction.
He gasped. “A rainbow!” he exclaimed, a huge smile breaking across his precious little face. “It’s a rainbow!”
He ran excitedly to the rocking chair where Grandmother and Rebekah were sitting. “Do you see the rainbow??” he asked them. My Mom acknowledged that she had seen it, delighting in his childish enthusiam. Rebekah, however, still looking for it and unable to spot it, asked “Where is it?”
I pointed again. “There!” I said.
Hopping down from Grandmother’s lap to join her brother on the grass, she asked him “Bubba, where is it?”
Gideon pointed. “Right there.” he said.
Rebekah’s eyes fixed on the birdhouse. “Where is it?” she asked again.
“Right there!” he reiterated.
Her eyes fixed on the fence. “Where? Where is it?” she repeated.
“Here, let me show you,” Gideon said. “I’ll take you closer.”
He took her by the hand and led her forward four or five steps, and then crouching down on one knee, he leaned in toward her, and pointing once more into the distance, patiently said “There. Right there in the sky.”
And now it was Rebekah’s turn to gasp…
“I see it! I see it!” she said, clasping her chubby little hands together under her chubby little chin.
“Yes!” Gideon said. He looked down at her, oblivious to my watchful eyes. “God put it there, Rebekah, so we could see all of the pretty colors.”
“Oh…” she said, as if she understood perfectly.
It was just another moment in another day of family living. Some of those moments are spent squabbling or fussing or lecturing. Some are spent in oblivion, either too busy or too distracted to notice much of anything. Some are spent eating or sleeping or cleaning or cooking or playing or singing or reading…
But then there are those moments like the simple one above, where you look up and you listen at just the right time, and your heart is tender enough and content enough to feast on the beauty that is placed right in front of your face.
And I’m not talking about the rainbow…