A Pregnant Pause

The sun poked its head in the eastern horizon, dazzling, shades of dusky pink surrounding the golden orb. It took command of the sky, displaying a magnificent party of colors. I gave a quick nod of my head, the kind of nod that says, oh-yeah-that-is-so-totally-cool-but-I-have-to-go-to-work-right-now. Turning my back on the richly hued vista, I got in the car, stepped on the gas pedal and began the drive to work. It wasn't long before I had totally forgotten that beautiful gift. A slow driver inched their way down the street, causing me to move my car just a little closer to their bumper. Shortly after, another driver ran a red light and a swoosh of angry breath escaped from my mouth. Hours later, the work load piled up, my frustration grew, and the earlier surprise of the morning had faded into dull shades of gray. By now the knots between my shoulder blades begged to be named. I decided to go for a short walk around our office. Cool air kissed my face, birds sang a chorus on a telephone line, and an elderly couple with their walkers smiled a greeting. Stopping, I looked upward, at the wispy clouds and inhaled a deep breath of thankfulness. I sat down on a wrought-iron bench and searched my brain for the image of the earlier sunrise, my eyebrows pinched together in concentration, like twins doing homework. I wanted to swath my fretful thoughts, hoping the memory would shroud the anxiety, and that the beauty of the mental image would eclipse the need to be in such a hurry. To be distracted by the busy-ness of life. Moments passed and I think I experienced an epiphany, because the birds grew louder and the cascading water-feature to my left reminded me of Ramona Falls. And the elderly couple who were now sitting on a bench opposite mine, their hands clasped together, seemingly in perfect harmony. It felt like God was speaking through his megaphone, saying to me, Do you see and hear all that is surrounding you this moment? It's all yours for a flash of time, drink it in, enjoy, appreciate. Open your eyes and relax. My heart thumped at the messge. I sat real still and listened, reflected. In my haste, had I truly seen the sunrise? Now, at this moment, fresh new experiences were feeding my soul, lifting my heart. But I had to stop, to slow down, simplify my thoughts and renew. During this time of expectancy, waiting for our new grandchildren, I decided to make a daily commitment.  Each day, I am going to make a strong effort to stop in the midst of the urgency, the self-imposed fast lane, and take a pregnant pause. Maybe one every twenty minutes or so. I do not want to miss another sunrise.