Minding Moments and Moving Forward
“There’s a ghost on the swing,” I called whimsically to my husband. I was sitting at the dining table relishing a cup of tea with a slice of toast when I glanced out the window and noticed a rare, August breeze gently swaying the swing on the patio. Lately, the air outdoors has been stifling, the daily temperature often peaking at ninety degrees, which means I have spent most of my time indoors with the air conditioner.
“Yeh, that’s my mom and dad,” he answered, fondly recalling how his parents loved swinging together whenever they visited their lake house on weekends. Nearly thirty years ago, my mother-in-law gifted us the wooden swing and my husband built a two-post frame to match the backyard playset he erected for our growing tribe. The swing followed us to Florida years ago and now poses in a sunny spot enduring lizards and southern humidity.
My husband is not the only one who harbors affection for that swing. I particularly remember its first summer when it became a convenient spot in the shade to rock a growing infant while supervising his older siblings as they amused themselves on the slide, monkey bars, playhouse deck, and kiddie swings. Now almost thirty himself, that child recently moved hundreds of miles from his birthplace, too, though he has chosen the mountains of Colorado to lay down fresh roots.
His move has sparked increasingly more reflections, thoughts that float back and forth from polar sides of my brain. Something as simple as a wooden swing will suddenly remind me of an event from the past, evoking both happy and sad emotions. The challenge has been forcing the positive feelings to outweigh the negative ones.
For example, when my mile-high son texted me to let me know he was about to visit Rocky Mountain National Park, I was simultaneously excited and envious. His adventurous spirit allows him to enjoy life and its natural beauty while I continue to age in sweltering, sullen heat. Recalling Jesus’ baptism, I heard myself quoting from one of the Gospels, “This is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased,” and my duplexity eased.
Of course, I am in no way insinuating that my son is Jesus, and I am most definitely not God. I am just trying to explain my thought process as a lover of Scripture who turns to the Bible to keep things in perspective and raise my spirits when necessary. Matthew 3:17 is a verse I have memorized that feels natural to apply to my favorite blue-eyed boy and helps me minimize the blues.
I have used this verse out of context on other occasions, sometimes even pretending God is speaking about me. It reminds me how precious people are and makes me look at them from my Father’s eyes. Try it yourself by changing “son” to daughter, spouse, sister, father, friend, neighbor, doctor, boss, cashier, plumber, or even that truck driver who cut you off at the intersection.
Lately, my everyday life has me swinging on a pendulum, sometimes wavering between laughing and weeping. As long as I remain in motion, I may as well employ methods that help me keep optimistic and encourage me to overcome pessimism. Variation can be beneficial and could keep me from stagnating, so I will figure out a way to enjoy these moments and move forward with the assurance that all will be well.
Whether the trigger is a retired Christmas tree ornament like a resin blue jay with a chipped beak purchased by an adolescent boy with blue eyes or a miniature, engraved music box that plays “You Are My Sunshine” he gave me days before a cross-country road trip to establish a new home, I will attempt to relax and relish all that I feel. That much-used wooden swing set could be the push that helps me welcome what brought me to where I am. I love the beloved I was created to be, and I am pleased.
