I shuffled in and out of rooms to the sounds of the latest contemporary Christian hits, family movie soundtracks, and the voices of kids who amazingly knew every single lyric in every octave.
My oldest was at school while my younger three had woken up to start working on their homeschool lessons before I’d even cracked an eye open. This did not happen on a normal day; this day we were prepping for a trip to our other home in Iceland. Their excitement flowed in and out of rooms, pulled me out of my sleep, and set my to-do list in motion.
I had bags to finish packing, emails to send, homeschool lessons to help with, and a house to clean. Not to mention I was battling a lingering cough and an eczema flare-up.
My expression was all business and the kids knew mommy was in the mode to get things done.
On one of my hurried passes from the kitchen to our bedroom, the song changed to an upbeat tune with rhythmic drums and melody. My youngest hopped up from the table and started dancing, his movements cute and surprisingly on beat.
He was feeling it. And in that moment, though I didn’t feel like it, spontaneity outweighed my duty and I joined him. I ignored my achy hips and stepped to the fun beat in my house shoes, a dance party for two. I matched my son’s moves and he matched mine, his dimples deepening by the second. And as we danced, I couldn’t help but smile wider because, in that instant, I knew that a core memory was forming for him — something that would be triggered and remembered later when he needed it the most.
Maybe the unlocking would happen years into the future when he heard the same song played over restaurant speakers, or perhaps when he saw my same house shoes on a trip to the store. Maybe he’ll one day have his own family to tend to, and the cute moves of his children will pull him out of his busy into being in the moment with them.
We’ve probably all experienced those times when an image or item triggers nostalgia and we say “core memory unlocked.” Unfortunately, some of those memories are ones we would rather shove back into the corners of our minds. Yet even now, as we submit ourselves to the care of our loving Heavenly Father, He can set things in motion that bring about redemption.
For my son, I had the strongest sense that this moment of me pausing my steps to dance in time to his would stay with him. His joy was immediate and overflowing, spurting out in bursts of hugs all throughout our spontaneous dance. Even as I type this I can still hear his laughter in my mind, giggles echoing into the recesses of my heart.
It can be too easy to zoom through days, doing our best to accomplish the ever-elusive completed checklist. Surely even Jesus’ disciples felt the weight of responsibilities and all the tasks that needed to be accomplished. But Jesus showed them how children were not a hindrance to life or ministry but a gift to be embraced! Jesus actively engaged with the little ones, their joy intermingling with His.
“He took a little child whom he placed among them. Taking the child in his arms, he said to them, ‘Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me.’”
Mark 9:36-37 NIV
I can only imagine the memories these children had years later, getting wrapped up in the arms of God in the flesh.
My kids’ antics can sometimes get lost in my need to effectively manage their activities, welfare, and even their spiritual engagement. But as I swayed there in the living room in my pajamas, the ding of the finished laundry cycle and the hum of to-dos buzzing in my head, I surrendered to the sacredness of that moment with my boys.
The sounds of their present laughter and the feel of their arms around my waist joined the memories of their soulful infant gazes and nourishment under nursing covers, of heads tucked into my shoulder after a painful fall, of snuggles on movie nights and slowly traipsing through snow and their wonder of it all.
I felt the significance of the moment almost as strongly as when tears stung my eyes the day they were baptized. Not because dancing with my seven-year-old in the living room is equivalent to the sacrifice of our Savior. But because set before me were the answers to past prayers and evidence of redemption in my own family line.
I can’t always control what will latch onto my kids for a lifetime, but I can make Spirit-led choices in the now to plant seeds for their unfolding futures. As one of my friends shared many years ago, my prayers can be like arrows, sent out to meet my kids along their journeys. And so too can my intention to be present with them and others in my community. Even if that looks like a few minutes of spontaneous dancing in slippers.
They are core memories forming to be unlocked later.
Seeds to bloom alongside future paths.
Joy set before our children.
Joy set before us.
Maybe you’ve felt the same pull — the tension between duty and delight, between what must get done and what your heart longs to savor. The good news? You don’t have to choose one over the other. You can press pause and welcome joy into the room, even if it interrupts the checklist.
Your kids won’t remember every chore you completed, but they will remember the times you chose them — the times you laughed and let love take center stage. And someday, when life presses in on them, they’ll have these moments to return to — proof that joy is always worth making room for.
So go ahead, friend. Say yes to a moment today. Plant the seed. Dance in the slippers. Trust that love given now will echo into eternity.
