Confession 294: Paul Harvey Mornings

Send me your light and your faithful care, let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy mountain, to the place where you dwell. Psalm 43:3

I was thinking about Paul Harvey the other morning.  Not Paul Harvey, really, but as I was going through my morning routine a memory stirred and Paul Harvey’s voice was there.  Growing up, my mom had a radio in the kitchen that was turned on each morning and tuned in to our community’s one and only radio station.  And while my mom bustled around the kitchen making lunches for everyone in our house before leaving for her full-time job, and while my sister and I sat at the dining room table eating our cereal and toast, Paul Harvey’s deep, gravelly voice floated over all of us, painting his beautiful pictures with his words.

Our culture today is all about the “big” moments.  Big trips, big parties, big experiences that your kids will remember for a lifetime.  But as I was remembering those Paul Harvey mornings, it occurred to me that our deepest and most lasting memories will be the ones born out of the rituals of everyday living.  It’s the things we do over and over again that imprint themselves on our minds and hearts.  And while the big events have their place, I think we need to focus the majority of our time and energy into making sacred the everyday.

The other night I made the choice to let the evening simply unfold.  No rushing to make dinner, no hurrying boys into the bath, no fuss over quickly getting jammies on.  Instead, we had a later supper and curled up on the couch to watch an hour long Disney t.v. show.  We spent time just being together.  And when bedtime did come, albeit about an hour late, it was much calmer and easier than the nights we’re rushing all over the place.

It occurred to me then that these moments are the sacred moments life is truly made of. This everyday living of our lives, these daily rituals we create in our homes.  They become part of who we are.  And unfortunately, for many of our nation’s children, those memories and moments are of discord and dysfunction.  As parents, we have a choice as to what kinds of memories we will create for our children.  I don’t want to be the crazy, yelling, rush-rush mom, stressed out and aggravated with the kids being kids.  I want my children to be enveloped with calmness and peace.  I want their memories of home to be warm and comforting.  I want that solid foundation of love in their hearts upon which they can build other meaningful and lasting relationships.  And that all happens by committing to love and embrace the everyday.

It’s the little things we do day in and day out that make up a life.  It’s the patterns of our daily behavior that we always default back to when life gets tough.  And so, I want those Paul Harvey mornings for my own children.  I want them established in routines that bring them peace, security and love.  And for some reason, Paul Harvey’s voice recounting “the rest of the story” over a bowl of cornflakes with my sister right across from me brings me all of those things.

Blessings and Peace,