When you have five sons like I do, the words “Mom, come here! We have a surprise for you!” can trigger a moment of dread. It might be a disaster, or it might be a slice of simple, heartwarming Americana that leaves you nearly in tears.
So when the two youngest came into the house, dripping wet and urged outside by two of their older brothers, I followed them onto the porch with a mix of curiosity and caution. This is what I saw.
At first it looked perfectly calm. But then I wondered: what was in the bucket? They built up the suspense, teasing me with a dramatic “Wait for it!”
My initial instinct was to rush—grab a quick photo and get back to the project I had left unfinished. The thought “Could you hurry up and grab the thing” even formed in my head. But then a small voice—one I’ve heard before in a friend’s handwritten quote on a refrigerator—whispered, “You must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life,” a line by Dallas Willard. I paused, inhaled deeply, and let the moment unfold.
Those unhurried moments gave me the photos—and the memory—I wouldn’t have wanted to miss.
They proudly announced there were “easily enough for three for each of us,” and asked if I would cook them. I praised their successful creek catch but suggested we return the crawdads so they could grow a bit more and we could enjoy a proper meal later in the summer. They agreed and wandered back down the hill with the bucket to release their catch.
I stayed on the porch, watching them go.
It’s summer—take the challenge to ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life and savor moments like these with crawdads, sunshine, and family.
XO
Rebecca