Fast Forward and Rewind
Today was the first day back to school.
And somewhere between drop-off, the quiet house, and a text from a friend who was taking his son to college, I typed the words:
“My baby is in middle school.”
And then I just stared at that for a second.
My baby.
Middle school.
We have a tenth grader now too, and this summer with him has been one of the more challenging ones we have walked through. And then there is the twenty-two-year-old, who is basically adulting now, minus a little financial help here and there because, well… groceries and life.
And as I thought about all three of them in their different stages, the only thing I could think was:
Someone must have hit the fast-forward button, and I would very much like to know who did it.
Because surely I was just packing tiny lunches and tying shoes and walking them into elementary school with backpacks bigger than their bodies.
Surely I was just holding newborn babies and memorizing the shape of their little faces.
Surely there should be a rewind button somewhere - or at least a pause!
Not to change anything.
Just to relive it.
To go back and see it all again with the eyes I have now.
To watch the moments that changed us.
The moments that formed them.
The little ordinary days that somehow became the history of our family.
I don’t need a picture or video for some of those memories. They are still as vivid as the day they happened. But remembering isn't the same as reliving ...
Their first days of school.
The way they looked when they were small.
The funny things they said in their sweet, raspy voices.
The way their little hands fit in mine.
Five minutes after the precious memories, I am fussing because someone still cannot keep a room clean or needs fifty reminders to do one small task.
Motherhood is sentimental like that... you can love unconditionally and like with conditions. One minute you are mourning the toddler years, and the next minute you are standing in a doorway saying, “How are there this many cups in here and why is there a wet towel on the floor... and HOW MANY TIMES do I have to say no food or drink in the bedroom!!?”
Today, with everyone gone, I sat in the quiet house and wondered where all the time went. Not just the years I was reliving but the actual day.
I had hours.
A whole school day stretched in front of me.
Time to clean.
Time to catch up.
Time to get the house back in order after summer.
And instead, I felt a little overwhelmed by the silence. The house was too still. The kind of stillness I dream of when everyone is home and loud and hungry and needing something. But when it actually came, I hardly knew what to do with myself. Without them next to me, needing me, what am I supposed to do?
Those moments felt holy, like pure joy. And then somehow, this week, we were pressure washing a barn full of poop, and I can assure you it did not feel nearly as holy. 😅
That is life, isn’t it? One minute you are marveling over new life. Next, you are cleaning up the mess life leaves behind.
We moved the sheep out to pasture, and part of me was grateful they are not underfoot every morning. But another part of me misses it. I miss the babies trotting up to me in their curiosity, letting me pick them up, and looking at me for the plan of the day.
The sheep and the boys seem to be outgrowing stages faster than I want them to.
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Time is a thief.
Don’t blink.
It goes so fast.
You’ll miss this one day.
I get it now in a way I didn’t when they were tiny, and I was tired, and someone was always sticky.
I do wish time could slow down.
I do wish I could press rewind.
I do wish someone would stop leaning on the fast forward button.
But then I remember time in Scripture.
There is a story in Joshua where the Lord held the sun still in the sky so Joshua and Israel could finish the battle.
“The sun stopped in the middle of the sky and delayed going down about a full day.”
— Joshua 10:13
That verse is almost too big to wrap my mind around. The God who set the sun in its orbit also held it there to complete His will for the day.
Time obeys Him. He designed seasons.... He lengthened and shortened the days. The harvests come in, and fruit ripens when it is supposed to. Animals give birth in their seasons. The earth spins, tilts, rests, warms, cools, produces, and waits according to rhythms God built into creation from the beginning of all time.
Ecclesiastes says:
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.”
— Ecclesiastes 3:1
A time to be born.
A time to grow.
A time to hold close.
A time to let go.
A time for babies in the barn.
A time for sheep in the pasture.
A time for little boys with backpacks.
A time for middle school, tenth grade, and young adulthood.
A time for loud summer days.
And apparently, time to sit in the quiet house while the whole summer catches up with my heart.
I think that is where this first day back has brought me. Not to the routines and schedules and rhythm of a busy household... but to the wonder of time. To the reminder that while time is spinning... it is not actually out of control.
It may feel like it is slipping through my hands, but it has never slipped through His.
God is not surprised by the stages of life. He is not caught off guard by the growing up.
He is not panicked by what is behind us or uncertain about what is ahead.
Ecclesiastes also says:
“He has made everything beautiful in its time.”
— Ecclesiastes 3:11
And maybe that is the truth I needed to grasp today. Not everything feels beautiful while it is changing.
The growing up.
The letting go.
The quiet house.
The memories I cannot rewind.
But God is not rushed by time, and He is not wasteful with it either. He knows what each season is teaching and how to make something beautiful from every moment, no matter how flawed it feels. He knows what was formed in the baby years, what is being shaped in the teenage years, and what will still grow in the years ahead.
God knew all their days before I ever held them.
“My days were written in Your book and planned before a single one of them began.”— Psalm 139:16
My times are in His hands. Their times are in His hands.
The summer we just lived.
The school year we just started.
The hard conversations we've had and the ones that are still ahead.
The sweet memories and the bitter mistakes.
The things I wish I had done better and the things I will treasure forever.
All of it is in His hands.
As much as I want to rewind, I also know it is all part of the journey.
My boys will learn on their road just like I did. They will make choices. They will grow. They will stumble, and they will get up stronger. They will become who God is shaping them to be. And I will keep learning how to mother them in each new season and continue growing in the calling He has given me... Not the same way I mothered toddlers or little boys. But with open hands, steady prayers, and the faith to believe that the same God who held their baby days is holding their future too. And that parenting them is a continuation of the journey He has for me... a steady walk in correction, sanctification, and growth .... It makes me think of the hymn... Just A Closer Walk With Thee... in every season.
So today, I may not get the whole house tidied. I may not fully re-enter the school year with all the structure I imagined. I may have some tweaking to figure out the new routine.... and I may choose to sit a little longer in the quiet house.
But I will give the Lord this summer — the hard parts, the sweet parts, the celebrations, the heartaches, the memories, the regrets, the laughter, and the lessons. And I will give Him the year ahead. And then, I will let Him do what He does best with time. Redeem it. Hold it. Use it. Grow things in it. Bring peace through it.
I still wouldn’t mind a rewind button. Just for a day. Just to hold my babies again or pick up a lamb that has gotten too big or hear one more tiny voice say something I forgot to write down.
But since I cannot rewind time, I will choose to trust the memories, the present, and the future to the One who makes it all beautiful and holds it all in His hands.
Where are you feeling the ache of time moving forward, and how might God be inviting you to trust Him with both what has passed and what is still being written?
Lord, thank You for every season You have carried us through. Thank You for the moments we remember clearly, the ones we wish we could relive, and the ones still ahead. Help us trust You with time — the parts we miss, the parts we do not understand, and the future You are still writing. Teach us to hold memories with gratitude, release what we cannot rewind, and walk forward with peace because our times are in Your hands. Amen.
Until next time, keep following the Plott, and I will be praying for us all. 💛
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