Smile at Red Lights

Smile at Red Lights
By Pat Price, March 31, 2025

Teach me how to rest, Lord—
to slow my pace, breathe it in, and see all the beauty.
To smell the rain, hear the cascading river,
taste home-cooked meals, fresh cut-grass beneath my feet.
Life rushes past—let me not take it for granted.
Freedom is given; I need only receive—
to pause, exhale, and dance in the moment.

Teach me how to rest, Lord—
to wonder, to listen, to wait with joy.
To feel time ticking—to know it is now.
Not tomorrow, not next year—
not when there's time to spare.
Moments slip away without permission—
seize them while they last.

Teach me how to rest, Lord—
to unlearn the art of busyness.
To walk in love, to listen deeply,
to live fully, enslaved to nothing but grace.
Let me not miss what’s right before my eyes.

Teach me how to rest, Lord—
not a victim of the world's demands.
Things will not bring joy—
presence, love, and laughter certainly do.
Let me find delight in the now—
wherever I am, whomever I'm with—
because I know where I'm going.

Teach me how to rest, Lord—
to grow, to trust, to let go of fear.
To walk, to hike, to taste the wind,
and feel the breeze kiss my skin.
To honor the breath in my lungs,
for today may be my last.

Teach me how to rest, Lord—
to do something bold, something new, and truly rest.
Not to live through others, but to live—
to cherish mistakes, to slow down,
to smile at red lights,
to dance without rushing by.