Years ago when when I was potty training my oldest child, I was complaining to my mother-in-law about how hard it was. It didn’t help that I had read a book about how To potty train in just one day. This led to unrealistic expectations. Her gentle response to me was, “It takes time.”
It was exactly what I needed to hear. It turns out I needed it for more than just potty training.
I needed it when I was combing out the snarls in my girls hair. I could almost hear her voice when I sat for a long time combing their hair. “It takes time.”
In a world where I can order and receive a hamburger in minutes, the idea that all things can be quick seeps into my unconscious. I begin to believe that all things are meant to be done quickly. That efficiency is the name of the game, forgetting that some things take time.
I went to a scrapbook retreat a week or so ago. It was my fourth time. I go with some friends that I see all the time, but there are some that I only see once a year at this retreat—I call them my scrapbook friends. I’ve always enjoyed the weekend and the people. Yet, I felt more at ease this time. More comfortable being myself. “It takes time” came to mind. It takes time to get to know people. To know the routine.
Turns out there are a lot things that take time. It takes time to learn to read. It takes time to clean the bathroom and to shop for clothes. It takes time to train for a marathon. It times time to write a book. It takes time to make healthy meals. It also takes time to grow old friends.
So many wonderful things take time. May I slow down enough to enjoy them.
What else would you add to the list of “It takes time”?
#mondaysbymidnight
