I took my kids to a park, and we wandered onto a paved walking path that paralleled a creek and row of trees. My oldest son skipped several feet ahead while my young daughter and I followed.
She would take a few steps, stop to admire a broken twig on the ground, take a few more steps, and halt again to touch a rock on the pavement.
I called for my son to wait for us, and he’d slow down for five seconds before resuming his rapid-fire skipping, only stopping for a brief moment
My daughter continued her much slower pace and gazed up at the trees, which were beginning to bud with spring flowers. She picked up a stick on the path, then another.
It was her slow, seeking steps during the walk that stayed on my mind. She had taken her time and thoroughly enjoyed her journey.
The breeze blew over us gently as we finished the walk. It was as if a familiar voice were whispering, “Be still, my child, and know that I am God.”