The Days Are Long, but the Years Are Short

“The days are long, but the years are short.” 

I repeat this phrase while I sit on the couch listening to my 7-year-old grandson read for a half hour every evening.

Each time he turns a page, he says something like, “Wow, Grammy! What do you think that is?” or “I wonder what will happen next?” He ignores the words on the page and launches into several winding, imaginative explanations.

My grandson really, really likes to talk. And use his imagination. As for the reading part? Not so much. 

Which is why I eventually have to suggest, “Read the page and find out.”

He follows my suggestion––he can read more fluently than he believes––and finds out. Then he turns the page and begins the same process all over again. 

To contain my impatience, I whisper to myself, “The days are long, but the years are short.”

One evening as we read, my mind wandered back to when our son was young and medically fragile. When complications arose––maybe he had a fever, refused to eat because of an oral aversion, or vomited his food because of an esophageal blockage––our days were very, very long. 

Should we wait to see if he got better? Or worse?

Could we wait until morning to go to the doctor? Or call him right now?

Should we race to the emergency room in our car? Or should we call the ambulance?

Not only were the days long, but also the nights. 

When our son turned four I told my mother, “The years since he was born feel like a lifetime. Maybe it’s because we haven’t gotten a complete night of sleep since he was born.”

Mom smiled and said, “The days are long, but the years are short.”

My grandson turns a page and explains, “Look at that shark! What’s it’s name?”

His words draw me into the present. I smooth down his honey-colored rooster tail and inhale his little boy smell. He leans into me, and together we sound out a challenging word. He looks up at me and smiles in triumph. 

“I’m getting the hang of this, Grammy!”

He is getting the hang of reading, and I am getting the hang of the fickleness of time.

I think of my son, whose early years required several corrective esophageal surgeries before he got the hang of eating and swallowing. He’s a middle-aged man now, healthy and independent. 

Where did those years go?

I look down at my grandson and smile, 

grateful for this precious half-hour together, 

grateful for this reluctant reader’s victory over a pesky word, 

grateful his dyslexia that brings us together each night,

grateful for the joy of being part of his life, 

grateful for the wisdom gained through the special needs of my son and my grandson.

The days are long and the years are short, and in the eyes of God, both have eternal value.

Written by Jolene Philo

---

Jolene Philo is the author of several books for the caregiving community. She speaks at parenting and special needs conferences around the country. She's also the creator and host of the Different Dream website. Sharing Love Abundantly With Special Needs Families: The 5 Love Languages® for Parents Raising Children with Disabilities, which she co-authored with Dr. Gary Chapman, was released in August of 2019 and is available at local bookstores, their bookstore website, and Amazon. See Jane Sing!, the second book in the West River cozy mystery series, which features characters affected by disability, was released in November of 2022.

Beauty In The Ordinary

It never ceases to amaze me just how tiring and intense our family life can be, especially if I’m honest when school term is over and everyone has time off. All around us friends and family are heading off excitedly on holidays together – and we also head off, but perhaps with a more complex set of emotions than simple excitement.

Out of routine children in unfamiliar places can be a challenge! Just thinking about the extra energy needed to get us there, and survive the experience makes me tired in itself! You know how it is.

We have just had to be spontaneous (I know, not one of our family strengths) and come home earlier than planned because a weather front plus camping at a Christian festival might not have been the most sensible plan. Its upset all the known plans, and caused anxiety all round but before we left I was sitting in a seminar surrounded by other carers and parents who find hope in Jesus like me, and I was reminded by one who commented that her way of self-care in the midst of caring for others was to notice the beauty in the ordinary.

It struck me, and I have brought that thought home with me. If the weather behaves for us I will pack that thought and take it with us to our next week of camping with my sister and her kids by the coast.

Seeing the beauty in the ordinary, such a simple thing.

And as I think about it, such a transforming thing.

Simply taking time to notice beauty; in an unexpected smile; a flower growing through the pavement cracks; the pattern of the sun bouncing and dancing off the sequins of my daughters T-shirt in the car. There is beauty everywhere we turn, when we notice. But how easy to miss it when we are feeling tired and overwhelmed. Somehow we find ourselves using our energy to anticipate the negatives and the problems round every corner, and forgetting to note the beauty in each other and the world around us.

I am reminded of Jesus’ words to a crowd of worried parents,

“Will all your worries add a single moment to your life? For example why worry about clothes? Look how the wild flowers grow. They don’t work hard to make their clothes. But I tell you that Solomon with all his wealth wasn’t as well clothed as one of them. - have you ever seen colour and design quite like it?” (Matthew 6:27-29)

When we stop and notice beauty, pause just for a moment to take it in, we can’t help but see intricate detail and design, amazing extravagant colours and shapes. They remind me of a Creator who takes care in the details – all the small things, even the things so many of us walk past. He sees them, they make Him smile, they delight Him. He has knit beauty into His world at every turn and every hidden corner, nothing is too small for His attention and care.

I am reminded again that nothing in my life, or in my family is too small for His attention and care either.

He has knit beauty in and through us too. We make Him smile, we delight Him! There is nothing about us, even in our most awkward and ordinary moments that He walks past without noticing. He sees. He smiles.

So, today waking up unexpectedly at home and faced with piles of washing, suitcases everywhere hurriedly packed, the kitchen piled high with shopping done for camping that needs sorting and tidying – perhaps today is a good day to put this into practice! Where is the beauty in all of that? I need to take those moments just to notice and take it in. I need reminding that my God sees, and smiles. He sees the beauty in the ordinary- every time!

Written by Cathy Porter

Cathy Porter is  a disciple of Jesus, a mum, ordained and a vicar's wife (in the Church of England), a writer, a creative, a blogger.

Cathy and her husband, Andrew, have 3 children. Her two girls both a diagnosis of ASC. You can follow the ups and downs of family life & faith on her blog: www.clearlynurturing.wordpress.com.

It is Cathy’s heart to encourage families to share in the adventure of faith together, especially families beautifully shaped by ASC. She loves to write stories that make the reader think, ask questions about what we believe, and help the reader to discover what the Bible has to say about God and friendship with Him.

A Change In Perspective

I confess that one of my greatest weaknesses during the holiday season is watching the mass variety of shows, concerts and movies that celebrate all things Christmas. I especially enjoy more of the live music and performances on Christmas Eve, usually from a great church or legendary concert hall. One year I watched a new musical, which was a fresh modern take on the Dickens classic, A Christmas Carol.

Toward the end of the show, after the death of Tiny Tim, his father, Bob Cratchit, sings a song of mourning the loss of his son. But this was not a typical song lamenting the tragic loss of a child. This song, called “No Trouble At All,” was an almost lighthearted reflection on the life of Tiny Tim. In a whimsical kind of tone, the character of Cratchit speaks to all of the struggles his son faced.

As he sang over the list of ailments and the challenges that each of those brought to the family, he answered each one with a wide smile and an incredibly heartwarming saying, “No Trouble At All.”

I watched the scene with tears welling up in my eyes as I immediately substituted all of the challenges that the actor was communicating in his song for my own son’s challenges and reflected on how I felt about them.

The normal emotional responses of anxiety, frustration and anger almost instantly melted away. What I was left with was the perspective of a father looking back at his experience of his son now that he had come to the end of his life.

While my son was still alive and well, I had now stepped into the shoes of Bob Cratchit, and found my perspective was one of gratefulness and love to all of his conditions.

 I sat and let all of my experiences with my son wash over me, and with the now appropriate response: when I am upset at my son for not being able to control his body, he is no trouble at all. When I’m frustrated that he can’t be more independent and needs so much support, he is no trouble at all. When he won’t go to sleep and requires me to sit or lay in bed with him until he does, he is no trouble at all.

 Most importantly, when I am in those places of upset, frustration and sleep deprivation; my Lord reaches down from heaven and with a loving hand and a gentle voice whispers to me how much I am loved and forgiven. He shows me the grace that I so desperately need when I am not being the father that I am called to be. He cares for me in so many ways and reassures me, even in times of weakness, I am no trouble at all.

           “Relieve the troubles of my heart and free me from my anguish.” ~ Psalm 25:17, NIV

 

 Written by John Felageller

You can connect with John on his Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/johnsspecialneedsblog/