There are speed bumps in all the wrong places. The other day I wanted to zip along a parking lot but there was a speed bump to hinder me. As I approached it I eased on the brakes, to avoid scraping the front bumper on the pavement. Then as I curtsied across it, I noticed the golden trees bowing back to me. I hadn't seen them before. Such loveliness, waiting to be shared before they sacrifice their buttery leaves to the muddy mulch. It was not a sunny day, but the branches did their best to shine.

The pavers who install speed bumps are only following orders. The owner of the establishment was probably responding to years of hasty drivers barreling across the lot where children also walk and ride bikes. He decided to slow them down whether they liked it or not. Mostly not. 

My life has speed bumps, and I am willing to bet that yours does too. You want to slam through dinner but the frying pan is dirty and you have to scrub it first. Or you want to steam through errands but your three year old in the back seat is curious about why Grandma went away. Hence efficiency is sacrificed for a tender conversation about heaven. 

The other day I tried to have a conversation with John about holiday plans. I expected it to be quick, and efficient. But bumps came up in the form of past hurts. This may come as a shock but sometimes our Christmases are not all gumdrops. 

I will try again, and I will take it more slowly.