{"id":6023,"date":"2014-03-03T07:51:37","date_gmt":"2014-03-03T13:51:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/?p=6023"},"modified":"2016-12-21T11:08:09","modified_gmt":"2016-12-21T17:08:09","slug":"the-ten-minutes-that-changed-my-distracted-life","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/2014\/03\/03\/the-ten-minutes-that-changed-my-distracted-life\/","title":{"rendered":"The Ten Minutes that Changed My Distracted Life"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\u201cBy<\/a>

\u201cBy offering to GIVE love, you are offering yourself a chance to BE loved.\u201d
\u2013Rachel Macy Stafford<\/p><\/div>\n


\nLately I've been receiving a lot of messages from readers who say, \u201cI am who you once were, but I don\u2019t know if there is hope for me; I don\u2019t know if I can change; I think it\u2019s too late for me.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n

<\/i>I once said those same words to myself. In fact, when I began taking steps to let go of my distracted, perfectionistic, hurried ways I didn\u2019t tell anyone for three months. Why? Because I thought change was not possible for me. I once believed I was too far gone to ever come back. But this past December 24th, I was powerfully reminded what I once believed was so wrong.\u00a0<\/i>Here is my story. May it reach someone who longs to believe change is possible. Believing is the first step.<\/i><\/p>\n

<\/i>\u00a0<\/i>______________<\/i><\/p>\n

We were supposed to leave the house in nineteen minutes. In my hand, I held my child\u2019s holiday dress and her pretty tights.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoney, it\u2019s time to wake up and get dressed for the Christmas Eve service,\u201d I said gently to my seven-year-old daughter who was barely visible under a mound of blankets.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m too tired,\u201d she moaned without opening her eyes.<\/p>\n

Two hours earlier I\u2019d suggested she take a nap since we\u2019d be up late, but now I was regretting it. My lethargic child looked as if she could sleep for several more hours.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, I\u2019ll help you get dressed,\u201d I offered.<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t move a muscle.<\/p>\n

This was not like her, but yet I was starting to feel agitated. \u201cYou can have two more minutes to rest, then it will be time to get up,\u201d I firmly stated using a tactic that worked well with my former special education students.<\/p>\n

After tidying up a few things around her room and glancing at my unusually put-together appearance in her mirror, I told my daughter it was time to get up now.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t feel good,\u201d she cried.<\/p>\n

I expelled a long, hot breath before speaking. \u201cMommy is trying to be patient with you, but I am starting to feel impatient,\u201d I said honestly. \u201cI\u2019ll take you to the bathroom and then I bet you\u2019ll feel better.\u201d<\/p>\n

At the pace of an elderly person with bad arthritis, she gingerly crawled out of bed and plopped down on the toilet.<\/p>\n

\u201cI will put on your tights right here,\u201d I said knowing we needed to leave the house very shortly if we were going to get seats in the service.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t feel good,\u201d she repeated once again\u2014but this time the word \u201cgood\u201d turned into one long wail. Her face crumpled in pain.<\/p>\n

Three and a half years ago, this is when I would have lost it.\u00a0 This is when I would have gruffly shoved her feet into those tights and barked that we were going to be late. This is when thoughts of my own agenda, my own appearance, my own timetable, and my own demands would have overruled all else. This is when things would have gotten ugly.<\/p>\n

But things are different now.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I stopped trying to put on the tights. I leaned back on my bended knees and studied her a moment. I saw my small child (who ordinarily wants to please and do as she is told) not being herself. I considered for a moment letting her go to church in the Dri-Fit clothes she was wearing with her hair sticking up in seventeen directions. I reminded myself that being a few minutes late would not be the end of the world.<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s when my child began throwing up. Violent heaves wracked her small body in waves.<\/p>\n

Miraculously, I didn\u2019t think about my lovely dress that I had never worn or the time on the clock or the fact she missed the toilet all together. I didn\u2019t think about the fact our dinner party that night would have to be cancelled or that all our fun plans for the evening would be ruined. I only thought was that my precious child was sick on Christmas Eve, the night she\u2019d been so excited about for months.<\/p>\n

As I bathed her and tucked her back in bed, I prayed she would feel better tomorrow morning. With the innocence of a child she meekly asked, \u201cDo I have to go to church, Mama?\u201d<\/p>\n

I kissed her gently on the cheek. \u201cNo, baby. You are sick. Daddy has offered to stay with you while the rest of us go to church.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Mama,\u201d she said closing her eyes with relief.<\/p>\n

Thirty minutes later, I sat in a candlelit sanctuary, my breathing now slow and steady as my older daughter rested against me. And that\u2019s when it hit me\u2014the difference between THEN and NOW. During that episode with my younger daughter I had every reason to become frustrated, impatient, and upset.<\/p>\n

But I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

I was able to look at her as a child, not a miniature adult.
\nI was able to realize yelling or forcing were not going to help the situation.
\nI was able to keep what really mattered in perspective while my best laid plans went terribly awry.<\/p>\n

Three and a half years ago, I never would have thought I could respond calmly in a time like that. Three and a half years ago, it was unfathomable to think this kind of change in me was possible. I was too Type A. I was a perfectionist \u2026 a control freak \u2026 a drill sergeant. I\u2019d made too many mistakes. I\u2019d controlled for too long. I\u2019d already done too much damage. This was just who I was \u2026 who I had become \u2026 who I would forever be.<\/p>\n

But there was a little voice inside me that said, \u201cNo. It doesn\u2019t have to be this way. You can<\/i> be the parent and the person you yearn to be.\u201d And through God\u2019s grace, I chose to believe I was not too far gone, that it was not too late.\u00a0That belief inspired me to take one baby step toward the person and parent I longed to be. I locked my phone in a drawer, shut down my computer, pushed aside my to-do list and I went to my small daughter and held her. I will never forget how she picked up my hand and kissed my palm. Her loving response motivated me to continue to make myself fully available for small increments of time.\u00a0To my surprise, those I\u2019d wronged responded with love.<\/p>\n

With love.<\/p>\n

Like there was never any doubt.<\/p>\n

My change to a less distracted life started with ten minutes. Ten minutes of putting aside the phone, the computer, the to-do list, the regret, the resentment, the impatience, the guilt, the pressure, and the doubt. I pushed it all away so I could be fully available to love and be loved.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ten minutes. That is where I started.<\/p>\n

And today, that is where you can start too.<\/p>\n

You may have a mile-long list of mistakes and failures,
\nYou may have yelled at someone you love just a few minutes ago,
\nYou may feel undeserving of another chance,
\nYou may believe you cannot change,<\/p>\n

I know. I remember. But I tried anyway.<\/p>\n

And in that initial ten minutes of meaningful connection, I experienced a healing peace that I hadn\u2019t felt in years, maybe even decades. That is when I realized life was meant to be lived \u2026<\/p>\n

Not managed
\nNot controlled
\nNot screamed
\nNot stressed
\nNot strangled
\nNot guilt ridden
\nNot regretted
\nNot wasted by thinking it\u2019s too late to turn things around.<\/p>\n

Because as long as you are breathing, it\u2019s not too late to try.<\/p>\n

Believe one small step can make a difference.<\/p>\n

Believe ten minutes of open hands and attentive eyes can bring hope and healing back to your life.<\/p>\n

Believe your life is meant to be lived \u2026 enjoyed \u2026 even celebrated regardless of what happened yesterday.<\/p>\n

And if you are having a hard time believing, offer a few minutes of time and presence to someone you love. Watch what happens when you offer yourself\u2014messy, scarred, and broken, it doesn\u2019t matter. By offering to give<\/i> love, you are offering yourself a chance to be <\/i>loved.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Be loved.
\nBe loved.<\/p>\n

My friend, if you have ten minutes and a willing heart, it might just be enough to make a believer out of you.<\/p>\n

As long as you are breathing, it\u2019s not too late to try.<\/p>\n

\"ten<\/a><\/p>\n

*******************************************<\/p>\n

Friends of The Hands Free Revolution<\/a>\u00a0community, t<\/i><\/b>he post you just read describes\u00a0the first step I took to transform my distracted life. My first book, HANDS FREE MAMA<\/a>, contains all twelve steps I took to address the external and internal distractions that were causing me to miss my life. HANDS FREE MAMA<\/a> contains my most painful truths, but I believe the truth heals and brings me closer to the person and parent I want to be.<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

To hear me talk\u00a0about\u00a0living an intentional life and the strategies I used\u00a0to get there, please subscribe to John O'Leary's LIVE INSPIRED Podcast<\/a>. My soul-bearing interview with John airs tomorrow, December 22, 2016. You can listen at your convenience once\u00a0you subscribe here<\/a>.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

For visual reminders to choose love, please check out the HANDS FREE SHOP<\/a> for gorgeous bracelets, metal cuffs, vintage tee's, and hand-lettered prints. There is even a TODAY MATTERS MORE THAN YESTERDAY cuff<\/a> in conjunction with this post. Thank\u00a0you for your presence and support. I cherish each one of you.\u00a0<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Lately I’ve been receiving a lot of messages from readers who say, \u201cI am who you once were, but I don\u2019t know if there is hope for me; I don\u2019t know if I can change; I think it\u2019s too late for me.\u201d I once said those same words to myself. In fact, when I began […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[1215,1212,49,1067,1216,1213,1217,1214],"gutentor_comment":114,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1fUJF-1z9","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6023"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6023"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6023\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6023"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6023"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6023"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}