Focus? Focus? Is there anyone out there LESS qualified than me to write about focus? Me – the one whose eyes dart from one thing to the next without a hint of hesitation. The person who carries around a load of guilt over the child who appears to have inherited my lack of focus, and the one who is always, always juggling so many balls that one is bound to drop, and soon. And yet… there are those moments.
When the child who struggles to concentrate manages to focus long enough to write a love song to her niece (words and music!).
When the other child (who has NO problem with focus) demonstrates her concentration abilities in a tightly executed gymnastics routine.
When the lens of the camera zooms in on that one perfect rose so tightly that you can fully see the richness of the red and count the petals, and the background disappears into, well, the background.
When the mother who is usually shooting off in all directions like an out of control fireworks display stops moving long enough to look into the eyes of her children and see that she is loved not for what she does, but who she is. And that she is ENOUGH.
When that same mother finally (finally!) stops to spend time with her Father, who assures her of the same thing: she is ENOUGH.
When the furiously spinning carousel that is life slows down enough that all those details passing by in a blur, they suddenly become clear. And all those details distill into this one truth: I am ENOUGH. He is MORE than ENOUGH. All the little things disappear into the background as my lens zooms in on Him.