Transitioning

Here we are, it's November and its cold and we're slowly getting into the rhythm of sweaters each morning, coats when we go out to play, extra blankets and jammies at bedtime.

And it all gets me thinking, you know, about transitions - how some are quick, but most are slow, gradual.

A baby slowly transitioned from Mama's room to the little bed in his own.  The slowing down transition from bustling daytime to soft, sleepy night.  7 year old finishing one book, moving on to the next.  Soft, gentle, gradual.  Slowly stretched, grown, strengthened, moving on.

Sometimes these transitions happen so slowly, we hardly notice that they happen at all.  When did he get so tall?  When did the baby learn to talk?  When did her hair get to be so long?  When did the leaves vacate the trees and how did I manage to miss it?

Our lives can drift by without us noticing if we aren't careful.

I'm visiting my sister in a few weeks - she just her first baby and I'm catching my breath, trying to grasp how somehow we are both Mamas now.  Wasn't it just yesterday we were staying up all night, whispering in the dark of our shared bedroom?  Babies, then such a distant idea to us, now consume our every conversation.  It happened so slowly, and now its here.  We are the moms now - not the girls.  It went fast, but it also went slow.

Sometimes our daily lives go at such a break neck speed and we live life as a series of accomplishments - get through this day, this event, this week, this holiday, this year.

When we live like that, we miss the moments that make life real - and we completely miss the signs that point to what it all means, and Who it is all for.

Every day, striving to live a prayer and notice the transitions - one at a time.