For Now

a new poem + some thoughts on planning

For Now

So often I am tempted 
to pull at the corner of the next season
catch a glimpse of something 
to come 
reveal a few unknowns

Our youngest turns four this fall
How did we get here so quickly?
It took our older two far longer 
to outgrow sippy cups and stroller rides
not him—he races forward

My husband counted ahead
how many birthdays and summers 
until our oldest is grown
Why are you telling me this?
We need to plan. He replied

I want the assurance
a list of dates on my calendar, but 
plans feel like portals 
taking us from one birthday
one summer to the next
 
Far from this moment in time
while our youngest still uses w’s for l’s
while our older two still want us
for long conversations and what-ifs
bike rides and movie nights

Our sons are still in bed now
soon they will find me 
I will offer hugs and breakfast
this is the only plan I need 
for now

My husband is a planner of all things, big and small—daily lists, weekly tasks, projects, yearly trips and events, life goals, etc. If compared to my husband, I am not naturally a planner, though I plan many things out of necessity. As the primary home educator for our sons, I plan educational activities, goals for the subjects we cover, field trips and extracurriculars, sports, etc. I plan birthday celebrations and family get-togethers, outings, playdates, well-child appointments, and more. And for the sake of my own well-being, I am trying to keep a habit of planning things just for me.

My favorite thing to plan (protect) is white space. Blocks of unplanned time for myself and my family. This is what I crave between sports practices, cooking, cleaning, errands, homeschool prep, etc. Time to read, write, bake, walk outside, take pictures, have a snack picnic on the grass, or whatever we feel like doing.

So often, I find myself in this tension of wanting to look ahead and anticipate what’s coming—beyond the hard or uncertain parts of this current season—and not wanting to underappreciate everything I know I will miss in the future. Maybe this tension is universally human? Maybe one of our greatest challenges is learning to be present, content even, in our current season, while trusting God to give us what we need for the next.

Love,

*Pictured above is my youngest son on an unplanned hike through the woods.