Press all the way down

"No, honey, not like that. Like this."

Ten half-pushed imprints of little circles encompass Polly's spread out and matted down Play-Doh she plays with at the dining room table.

I place my hand over her's and push the Play-Doh container firmly into the squishy green dough."You have to press all the way down until you feel the surface of the table. Then you need to wiggle the container a bit, so as to create a little space between the Play-Doh inside the container and the rest of it. That way you know it is completely separate, and you've got your circle.

Watching my hands, I stop and think. My life is full; Elaina, Zoya, Polly, and Evie, health and developmental concerns for all of them, time with Sergei, advocating about Down syndrome, church, and writing, and housework, and friendships. Even just thinking about today: the girls are off from school, and I wanted to start getting them ready for bed, like we had already lived a full day, by nine a.m this morning.

Because my life is full, I fear that I am not doing everything as well as I should. I am tired, weary. I liken myself at times to a weakened farmer looking out over an expansive field needing ploughing on foot.

But my instructions to Polly regarding Play-Doh strike a cord in me. My spiritual ears perk up. I imagine God speaking to me.  

Place your hands on top of what I've called you to today and press all the way down. Reach the surface. Give it a little wiggle. Create the needed space for the task at hand. If it is a full day with the kids, then press down there. If it is a writing day, steal yourself away and press down there, for my glory. Don't worry about the amount of things in your life. Just pick one thing right now, press all the way down and make contact.

Polly watches me work with the Play-Doh. "Did you hear me, honey?" I say. "You have to press all the way down." "Oh, you do?" my sweet five-year-old asks, trusting, ready to try, even though it is a challenge for her to push her palms down strong enough to complete the task. A smile takes over my face, and I reach over and plant a light kiss on top of her dusty brown hair.

"Yes, you do," I gather up the pile of green fun, roll it into a ball and squash it flat into the table. The Play-Doh spreads easy. It is once again smooth and ready for a new circle. This is my task at hand today. To spend time with my kids and wiggle enough space in my head to be fully present and make contact.