I grew up on a farm.
That being said, I think that there has always been a different “way” that we did things. Not different to us though because it was always our…normal. But, different from our friends who lived in town.
My friends in town would walk to the park, and we would go play on the old, rusty equipment.
Town kids would ride their bikes around town, we would ride ours around the yard, and a mile to our grandmas house on a busy county road.
When we got old enough to drive, our friends in town would probably casually park their cars in front of their houses and walk in…we (I will speak for my oldest brother for sure on this one) would park our car and sprint 100 feet to the front door in fear that the children of the corn might come out that night.
We rode 3 wheelers, hid in the lilac bushes and squirt water at cars passing by (sorry, Mom), we worked in the fields, rode the potato harvester, took naps in the tractor, and played “cops and robbers” using a reeeeeeaaaaaally slow riding lawn mower.
But, one of my favorite things we used to do, is get the semis to honk as they drove by. You know, by flailing your arm up and down in the most annoying fashion? Yep. That’s the one.
A few days ago, all do the kids were playing outside and I heard a semi honk. Then, there was another. I rushed to the door thinking that one of our dogs was in the road because that is what usually warrants the long hooooooooooooooonk.
But, to my surprise, the kids were jumping up and down in the front yard with huge smiles across their faces, flailing their right arms.
The same front yard that I used to do the same thing!
Emaleigh had one of her friends (from town) stay over the night before so she was soaking all of this (weird, farm tradition) stuff in and joining right along.
Em ran over and said, “Mommy! We have gotten 23 semis to honk!! Some of them just look at us and keep driving. So, we gave them names. Sweet and Sour.”
They kept at this for about 15-20 minutes and counted 40 semis that honked for them. Forty!! They were dubbed, “the sweeties”.
I decided to join in for the last few, and it felt good to have a semi honk back. They probably thought I was the weirdest mom standing in the yard with my right arm flailing up and down…but who cares?
For a brief moment, you get to have a small connection with a stranger, and you know that you are both smiling. It felt good for just those few seconds to have the heart of a child.
I began thinking about this. I don’t know about you, but I would rather be called sweet than sour.
I want to be the semi that honks, when no one else will.
I think sometimes (as adults) we are so focused on life, that time just begins to slip away and we allow bitterness, or sourness, to creep into our hearts. So focused on trying to make the life we have always dreamed of living, that we don’t realize that life is passing us by.
I know we all have our days, or even our seasons of sourness, but if we allow all of the sour junk to over take us…we loose all of the sweet. We easily forget the sweet moments that we used to enjoy.
As silly as this sounds, when you’re sour, not only does your joy seem to be sucked out, but also the joy of everyone around you. Choose to be sweet…not sour.
Can I encourage you to have the heart of a child today. Do something that used to make you smile…even if it’s something as simple as getting a semi to honk at you.
Smiling and laughing does wonders for people around you…it’s contagious, and good for your soul.