This morning, I dropped the kids off at school (late) and headed into the church (early) to get some reading done before a mid-morning meeting. It can be tricky to find ways to squeeze in quiet time these days. I feel like I’m always rushing from one thing to another, holding little hands and church work and school bags and too many books and no wonder the coffee cups get chipped from time to time. Then I found this poem by Katharine Tynan. Have you heard of her? The biography notes in the back of the book said that she “wrote more than a hundred novels by which she made a pleasant living, and at intervals she published collections of poetry.” That does sound pleasant, doesn’t it? The notes also mentioned her two sons, so I imagine that she, too, knew a thing or two about having your hands full.
But better than any biographical notes, here’s her poem.
Slow Spring
O year, grow slowly. Exquisite, holy,
The days go on
With almonds showing the pink stars blowing
And birds in the dawn.
Grow slowly, year, like a child that is dear,
Or a lamb that is mild,
By little steps, and by little skips
Like a lamb or a child.
February is a month to wish past. It’s easy to want to rush past these darker waiting days and to plant our feet firmly in this year’s spring. But wishing is like worry. It doesn’t change the length of days one bit.
And there’s something good about slow.
O year, grow slowly. Exquisite, holy,
The days go on
Slowness creates time for us to see what is happening around us. Time to watch the season and the unfolding of light. The way the clouds move across the sky, the way they conceal and reveal the sun. This Sunday, we’ll be reading the story of the Transfiguration with its own concealing clouds and then the brightness of Christ strangely among us on the mountain. And then next week, Lent begins.
Lent brings its own slowness. Lent can be a time for deliberate slowness, for little steps. Lent is often a time for adopting disciplines – reading, intercessory prayer, stillness, fastings. All these things are designed to slow us down and to refocus our attention. But that’s hard with little ones around the house. Days with little ones are often too slow and too fast at the same time. It can be hard to hold onto slowness and also hard to sit with it. So how can Lent fit into family life?
Carolyn Brown tackles this question on her Worshipping with Children blog. She states that following any one discipline throughout Lent feels too much when you have small ones in your home. “They simply cannot imagine they will be successful at it over such a long haul.” Instead, she suggests making space in family life for a different Lenten discipline each week. This way, you can experience a variety of Christian practices in these slow spring days before Easter.
Here are a few of her ideas for weekly disciplines:
– Say the Lord’s Prayer once each day this week.
– Sing the Doxology once each day – after listing the blessings of that day.
– Pass the peace each day in the household. Work on really meaning it when you say “Peace be with you” to each other no matter what has gone on that day.
I think we’re going to try this idea. It sounds like a gentle way to approach Lent. I like that. It feels right. I hope that it will help me to hold onto slowness in these days. That it will help me relax into the moment and the approaching season, perhaps a little more prepared, a little less rushed. The almonds will blossom, but this is still the season for bare branches and still hidden buds. One week at a time, one practice, one conversation, one story to wonder through. Let’s take this slowly, shall we?
Grow slowly, year, like a child that is dear…
