Sitting on a Miracle

One, two, buckle my shoe

Three, four, shut the door

Five, six, pick up sticks

Seven, eight, lay them straight

Nine, ten, big fat hen!

Circa age three, my Great Grandmother Lucille taught me this rhyme and how to pump my legs to use our backyard swingset. This Thanksgiving offered a full-circle moment to that earliest memory, as thoughts of her, my Papa and Great Aunt Rosalie surrounded me in their Iowa hometown.

Macedonia boasts one restaurant, a bird museum and a pottery shop (both open by appointment only). In the company of dear cousins, corn and cows, I had a lot of space to simply rest and reflect. Naturally, I spent hours at the historic park just down the street from the yellow farmhouse our family built in 1911.

Channeling Grandma Lucille, I pumped my legs and rose up and down– gaining perspective and peace. With gratitude, I contemplated the last year– and how I wanted to step forward into another. I released pieces no longer serving me; letting them fall as the trees surrendered their leaves to the wind.

Before my last day, I noticed the word “miracle” imprinted in the faded blue rubber of the swing’s seat. I know this brand was not a coincidence. Precious family time mixed with quiet moments of thought and palpable memories of early learning gave me strength. Just the strength I needed to surrender what I can’t control and feel loved and assured on this journey.

I love the steady elevation gain that comes from leaning back and whooshing my legs through the air:

Up.

Down.

And up again.

The breeze brushes my hair.

And perspective grants liberation.

Repeatedly, I’ve gained simple freedom by putting Grandma Lucille’s skills to use throughout my life. Undoubtedly, my Smith family’s stubborn strength pushes me to the higher places I want to live.

Me and my amazing cousin (Prima) Molly in front of our 1911 family farmhouse

My mini-Macedonia miracle offered catharsis. Therefore, I keep these swing-set stories close as we enter the highs and lows of the holidays. Although this blog isn’t religious, my faith drives who I am, my writing and how I see the world. And this time of year, I enjoy considering the fuzzy farm animals present for Christ’s birth and the unconditional love he represents in my life. Unknowingly, a baby lamb might have sat in the same hay that kept him warm. I relish the simplicity and take that in as– much of life simply doesn't make sense. And perspective won’t be rushed. I’m grateful for moments like the Macedonia park that help me remember, through the rise and fall of it all, odds are, we are sitting on some kind of miraculous.

What about you? What ways are you sitting on a miracle of sorts during this season?

I encourage you to pump your legs and “three, four, shut the door” in order to fly free and greet fresh ups and, even, downs. Know you are not alone and I wish we could sit side by side on swings and discuss how you are feeling pushed onward into this next season.

Your Brave Tutu (You’re brave, too-too!)

-Take courage in delight. Discover power in small moments

P.S. I’d like to take this moment to congratulate my Aunt Melia on becoming Macedonia’s Madam Mayor in 2022 and encourage everyone to check out Macedonia House, her amazing bed and breakfast.