It’s a request every time we drive to my parents’ house: “Momma, can we drive by the horses?” And it’s an easy yes. A short little detour takes us by the field, and every time we draw close, I hope the horses are out grazing instead of hiding from the Texas heat in the barn set too far back from the street.

This time was like all the others. I checked for cars coming up behind us and then slowed to a crawl, then a stop, scanning the field. “Ah, guys, I’m so sorry. I don’t see them.” I looked all over the field.

Then I heard their excited chatter from the back seat. Standing right by the fence, which was RIGHT by the road, and off in the corner, stood three of the horses grazing. I had been so desperately scanning further out in the field that I missed what was right in front of my face, something my kids didn’t miss at all.

As we finished the drive to my parents’ only a few minutes further down the road, I couldn’t help but think that my momentary vision lapse felt too much like real life. Too frequently, I’m planning ahead, strategizing, putting pieces in motion, plotting what needs to happen during what seasons and what months, or what fun things or goals we need to work on with the kiddos, that sometimes I can miss the fun, sweet moments that make the day.

Their laughter over breakfast or their joy as they dress in super hero and princess costumes and fight the “bad guys.” I can miss the baby rolling over or the smiles he gives his big siblings when they talk to him. I can miss the accomplishment of my four year old buckling herself into her car seat as I rush to make sure we get somewhere on time or the fist pumping celebration from my two year old when he finally gets the magnatiles to stand up in a box. Plans are important, but prescence trumps plans every time.

Sometimes what we are searching for is right in front of us, if we slow down long enough to see it.