The in-between spaces

There was something special about that little red mat. It stayed folded with 27 other mats along the back wall of the classroom until the afternoon.
After lunch, we would each claim our mat and find a little space on the floor for our afternoon nap. We had a small blanket or beach towel from home to cover us, and for a little while, the classroom became quiet.
I remember lying there, quietly wishing the time would pass by. I would watch the teacher grade the morning’s work and somehow with the ticking of the clock I would drift off to sleep. Eventually, we would awaken, gather our things, and return to our lessons until it was time for the bus ride home.
It was simple. And it was long ago. Sixty years have passed, with so much happening in those in-between spaces of life. We grew up. We fell in love. There were weddings and promises – some kept and some broken. There were children to raise and, before we knew it, grandchildren filling our lives with joy. And somewhere along the way, there were moments we wish we could undo.
There were celebrations we never wanted to end and goodbyes we never wanted to say. There were gains and there were losses. There were dreams that came true and others that quietly slipped away. There were moments of laughter and moments that left their own kind of ache.
Through it all, we learned that life doesn’t move in a straight line from one destination to another. There are spaces in between – years we don’t always notice while we’re living them, filled with experiences that somehow become our lives.
And even now, I have come to appreciate the afternoon nap. I have also come to treasure those in-between spaces where I was never alone. Perhaps that is why the words of Ecclesiastes have become more meaningful to me with the passing of time. King Solomon writes that there is a season for everything and a time for every matter under the heavens.
There was a time for the innocence of childhood and all that came with it. A time to grow. A time for beginnings, a time for laughter and tears, a time for holding on and letting go, and a time for endings.
Looking back, I can see seasons I didn’t understand while I was living them. Some were beautiful. Some were painful. Some seemed to last forever, while others passed before I realized they had begun. And yet, each one became part of my story.
Maybe that is the gift of growing older. We begin to understand that life isn’t made up of only the big moments. It is also made up of the quiet spaces between them – the ordinary afternoons, the waiting, the changes, the times when we aren’t quite sure what comes next.
The little girl on the red mat wanted the afternoon to hurry along. Today, I think I would tell her to rest a little longer – to linger in the innocence of her youth. The clock will keep ticking and the lessons will come. The bus will arrive to take her home as the seasons of life continue.
For life has a way of moving us forward, whether we are ready or not. And that is what we learn with age – that God was always present in the in-between spaces of our lives, carrying us through each season, even when we didn’t know He was there.
So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12

Cheryl Mixon-Cruce is Pastor of Ochlockonee Bay United Methodist Church and Sopchoppy United Methodist Church.