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Reflections February 2013

Wit and Grit

Slow Down, Pause

By Mary Stobie

Because the gift of presence, like prayer, is intangible, not seen, it is sometimes overlooked as having value in our hurried-up competitive society.

Slow me down, Lawd, I's a-goin' too fast,

I can't see my brother when he's walkin' past.

I miss a lot o'good things day by day,

I don't know a blessin' when it comes my way.

--Old Spiritual (From an article called Slow Down! By Willard Pleuthner, San Francisco Chronicle 6/10/1951)

I found the article "Slow Down" in my mother's things when I was cleaning out her house after she died. The piece has a photo of a couple taking a walk together in a field of wild grasses. The man and the woman are both looking in the same direction. It's interesting that my mother would have saved this for so many years, because later in her life she became one of the busiest people ever. Maybe the meaning of the article comes through especially for active people.

My husband and I talk about slowing our pace. Life is short and gets shorter as we grow older.

We have to consciously slow down because the culture we live in is one of speed. So much is available to us: high speed freeways, high speed internet, same day shipping, instant movies on Netflix, cellphones with email, and express lanes and bullet trains. On television and computers we watch events as they happen all over the world and witness speed records broken in the Olympics by new super-athletes.

But how does all this speed affect our children? Pleuthner's article says: "Slow up our weekends of gaiety so we live more with our children...do more with them...grow closer to them. For they need parental companionship now during these uncertain times more than ever before."

The words written over 60 years ago ring true today. Two days ago my son-in-law asked me to make a weekly date with my three-year-old grandson, Noah. Yesterday, Noah and I walked in the rain, held an earthworm, and went to a playground with wet sand and made sand castles. We played with fountains in the shallow pool at the recreation center. And he recently taught me how to line up small cars. "Grandma Mary, Grandma Mary..." he said when we were back home, "Read me Mike Mulligan and the Steamshovel."

He loves stories and we take each page slowly and talk about the pictures.

Now I have time to spend with my grandson because I retired as a hospital chaplain. Chaplaincy is a ministry of presence. Hmmm. Maybe I'll still have a chance to practice it with him.

Because the gift of presence, like prayer, is intangible, not seen, it is sometimes overlooked as having value in our hurried-up competitive society.

And with my grandson becoming a regular part of my life, I'm learning how to slow down and "know a blessin' when it comes my way."

 

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