Her + The Healer

Honest thoughts on life, faith, and everything in between

Grass Stains & Belly Laughs

Sometimes a reality check shows up unexpectedly — like watching your three kids roll down a hill in a wave of uncontrollable, soul-deep laughter.

The kind of laughter that bubbles up from the belly.
The kind that’s impossible to fake.
The kind that’s contagious enough to make strangers smile.

This afternoon, I sat on a park bench and watched them run up the hill again and again, only to tumble back down in a heap of limbs, giggles, and grass-stained joy. I couldn’t help but laugh too. And then — I got smacked right in the heart with the truth:

I don’t want to miss this.

It’s so easy — as a parent, a spouse, a grown-up — to live on fast-forward.
To rush from one thing to the next.
To let our thoughts skip from insurance to appointments to disasters on the news — while missing the miracle right in front of us.

We’ve been tricked into thinking we’re supposed to catch everything life throws at us like a major league catcher — fastballs of stress, expectations, worry, and global anxiety. But the truth? That stuff will still be there when we’re done watching the kids roll down a hill.

Stress doesn’t solve problems.
Worry doesn’t build peace.
If anything, they just magnify the weight.

But grass-stained pants? Belly laughs that echo? A little dirt under your fingernails and the sun on your face? Those things make life lighter. Brighter. Truer.

This afternoon reminded me:
We don’t have to subscribe to the speed of the world.
We can unsubscribe.
We can choose slower.
We can choose presence.

Because when I chose to soak in that moment, something interesting happened —
all the worries I’d set down were still waiting for me, right where I left them.
Ready to be dealt with when I was ready.
Not when the world hurled them my way.

Life doesn’t have to be a highway.
It can be a Sunday cruise — top down, salty breeze in your hair, taking in the view, and stopping for clam chowder when you feel like it.

The choice is ours.

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