The moon swells full outside the window, and our boys can’t bid it goodnight.
My husband and I watch as our preschooler presses his nose to the glass, leaving a frosty imprint. Tonight the stars burn brighter than city lights, beckoning him and his brother outside. It’s as if he knows the beauty of the night will vanish away if he lets his eyelids droop.
“Let’s take them for a walk.” My husband says.
I sigh. A blog post awaits. A chapter begs. It’s sacred writing time, and I long for quiet. I have a better idea.
“Why don’t you take them? I can’t possibly go.”
My eyes plead for him to understand, and he nods. Is that a look of disappointment? He straps our baby in a carrier and dons our preschooler in winter garb. They look like miniature marshmallows in puffed up coats. Their little mitten stuffed hands wave as their daddy opens the door to winter’s wonderland. And if I let them walk outside, I’m certain they’ll return teenagers.
“Wait.” I grab my coat.
My husband turns around grinning.
We slip outside. Our breath forms vapor, boots tap pavement, jackets swish together. The man-in-the-moon smiles. We walk in the comfort of each other’s company on this magnificent silent night.
As we head down the main road, headlights blare bright a few feet ahead. I freeze. Is the car coming straight toward the stroller? My mind whirls. If I stand still, my preschooler will get hurt. I jerk the stroller. Pull it up the incline. The car swerves left. Missing us.
“He could have just killed us.” My raspy breath floats on the air.
My husband’s words soothe. He tells me we’re okay, the car wasn’t going to hit us. A gentle calm moves from my heart to my head. We move forward.
“Thank you for coming on a walk with us. I know you need your writing time.”
“What good is writing time, if I have nothing to write about?”
A thought crosses my mind, What if I hadn’t come on this walk? Would the car have…I shudder. God’s Spirit guides His children, and on this night where the Heavens declare His glory, I know He enabled me to choose family over words.
And this moment with my precious boys is all I have to write.
I take in a deep breath, exhale, and watch the vapor swirl toward the satellite and vanish away.
“Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.’ Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14&5
Melanie N. Brasher is a full-time mama of three boys and wife to an
incredible husband who understands her bicultural background. She
moonlights as a fiction and freelance writer, crafting stories and
articles toward justice and change, and dreams of becoming a voice for
the unheard. She’s a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, and a
contributing blogger for Ungrind (http://ungrind.org/). She contemplates faith, family
and writing at her personal blog. Though she’s an aspiring author, she’ll never quit her day job.
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