Ever have one of those epiphany moments? Something you already knew or heard suddenly becomes more real and more true to you than before.
I spent part of this past weekend clearing out some large limbs that had fallen from a tree in our backyard. There I was with goggles and chainsaw about to clear this stuff away under the close supervision of my viking dwarves. Can you guess what happens next? “Dad, what can I do”, “Daddy, I want to help”. I point out to my kids that this is a dangerous tool that only dad should use and that they need to stay back because I can’t watch them and pay attention to cutting if I’m worried about how close they are. Being the obedient, thoughtful kids they are, they complied.
I go to work. As soon as the saw falls silent the first time: “Dad, what can I do”? I quickly realize my kids are more than a little interested in participating in the work because of the cool saw and because it’s dad. In fact, they’ve even gone back into the house to get their work gloves, a toy saw, hammer and pliers to use. To buy a little time I tell them I need to cut some more first. I start sawing and thinking. I devise a plan.
Some of the debris will make decent fire wood and some just needs hauled away or shredded into mulch so I start a pile of the smaller stuff and ask them to use their tools and start breaking it apart. Happy work ensues as that red toy saw starts to buzz. Then the epiphany comes.
I was intent on getting this work done so I could spend time with my kids. I was trying to be efficient with my time and get this honey-do wrapped up quickly. My spirit sighed with a little frustration that this wasn’t going to be quick or efficient as long as the vikings are helping. In that pause something I’ve heard and taken to heart before bubbled to my consciousness: Sometimes the fastest way to get a job done isn’t the best way to do it.
I was already spending time with my kids. They were having a great time. Why was I in a hurry at all? Feeling hurried was about to rob me of a father’s joy and duty. From that point on getting the work task completed was secondary to sharing the work with my children. Russell would stand back while I cut some and then help me stack the cut pieces a few at a time. Zoe graced us with her presence as only a 3 year old daughter can and she move a few smaller pieces to the mulch pile for later. We laughed, talked and shared a couple hours together.
I repeat my weekend lesson here as an example and reminder for you. I encourage you not to run your life as if you’re always in a hurry to get things done. Your benefit to stepping out of that hurried mode will be a greater investment in important relationships.
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