I’d like for you to meet steak and potato, our trustworthy and hospitable neighborhood rocks.
Once upon a time, these rocks held great fascination for my two lively boys. We would go on a walk and kill a good 15 minutes stopping to visit steak and potato. On our street you can head in two different directions. The boys always chose the way that would get them to steak and potato the fastest.
These large rocks reside in the neighbor’s yard at the end of our street. Located right next to the road, we brazenly trespassed on their property I suppose. When you are the mom of littles, you’ll take risks to get a few extra moments of time your children are well occupied.
The boys would climb up and down, and then jump from one rock to the other as they got a little older. We found out from another neighbor that she and her children, now grown, had given the rocks these nicknames years ago. Apparently I’m not the only mom willing to take a risk for a little extra sanity in her day.
Now, steak and potato have sort of been forgotten. Given the choice of left or right when we leave our driveway, they will more often choose right so they can walk by their friends’ house around the corner in the opposite direction. We can pass steak and potato without even stopping most times, although Austin will still take a few moments now and then to get in a few jumps. The whole scenario kind of reminds me of The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. I wonder what those rocks would say if they could talk? And although the boy forgot the tree at times, I bet his mother never did.
What do we do when the novel becomes mundane? I’m particularly thinking of this as Easter approaches on Sunday. As a child, Easter held so much wonder for me. And not just because of Easter eggs and baskets. I loved getting up at the crack of dawn to attend the early service at church and have breakfast. We usually had some kind of special music and it just felt like there was an electrical energy in the atmosphere. The fact that Jesus had risen from the dead left me awestruck.
Unfortunately, the holiday lost some luster when my husband was in ministry. This holiday in particular meant 70-90 hours weeks leading up to the big event. I wouldn’t see him at all on Easter until the morning was said and done. Somehow, I just haven’t quite been able to recapture all of the glory, even now that he’s been out of ministry for 6 years.
I have a greater understanding of why Jesus instituted communion. “This do in remembrance of me.” He knew we would need a constant reminder. Because somehow even one of the greatest events in history loses power over us as it becomes more familiar.
I’ve found that serving others helps me regain some of my enthusiasm. The last couple of years my family has helped prepare an Easter dinner for Backstreet Mission, a home for homeless men in our town. I look forward to the time that I can focus on what Jesus did for me by sharing it with others in a tangible way.
Whether it’s Easter, or your marriage, your job, or maybe your home, there are a lot of things in our lives that we can begin to take for granted. Try looking at it through new eyes. What can you do that might renew some of your energy? Plan a special evening for your spouse, reach out to a fellow coworker, repaint a room…you get the picture.
Some things, like steak and potato, we naturally outgrow. Don’t let the important things in life slip through your fingers. Be intentional. Sometimes we have to change things up in order to truly appreciate their value.
Wishing you a blessed Easter season for those of my readers who celebrate. Take some time to look at the day with a renewed outlook. Recapture the wonder in a special way.
“Behold, I make all things new!” Revelation 21:5