Do you ever stop in the middle of a seemingly insignificant, small moment and just overflow with love and gratitude? I had one of those moments on Saturday. I was on the church balcony, sitting next to Dee listening to a guest choir sing at our choir's concert. As I glanced over at Dee, I was overwhelmed with deep gratitude. Gratitude for this close friend who chooses to spend time with me. Gratitude that God put her in my life.
We had spent the afternoon together, starting with coffee at my house: lattes, fresh bread and cookies. Then, we had driven together to the church. We had had a sound check and had briefly run through our songs. After that we'd been excused to break for dinner/snacks. I had completely forgotten that there was a long break between practice and the concert and had brought nothing, except the gum and a few cough candies at the bottom of my purse. Dee had brought apples and cheese, salads and crackers. She graciously offered to share with me. I'm sure it was not a big deal in her mind and she probably would have done it for anyone else in the choir too. But, she did it for me. We sat in a little room off the sanctuary by ourselves, with two chairs and a table, eating, chatting and listening to the high school choirs practicing in the sanctuary. We weren't exactly supposed to be in that room, but it was so much nicer than crowding in with the more than 100 people who were snacking in the other room. We shared her food and there was something profoundly beautiful in that moment, even though it was in fact, so ordinary. We finished up, went to join the others and waited for the concert. Later, sitting there on the balcony next to Dee during the concert, it hit me. Thank you God for this beautiful friend, I whispered to myself as we got up to go sing in the mass choir and close out the concert.
Moments.
Moments-this is all we have.
Microscopic, fleeting moments.
How many moments of my life have my eyes been wide open but I've been rushing, racing, sleeping right through?
How many popsicle days and the running and twirling and spinning days.
How many of the moments of melting ice cream and crazy laughter and dangling bare feet and the setting sun igniting the moment of NOW.
Someone wake me up to the beating of wings and splashing of water...the setting of fog at twilight...the way the leaves and childhood slip away in the woods, torched with the last of summer.
You have GOT to figure out a way to stay FULLY awake!
Time's blurring by and everyone's slipping past and how do we wake to the moments?
How do we start believing that life can be carried only in the hands of the unhurried?
A bubble held in awe...how do we stop wolfing life down...cuz life is our only dessert - too brief, too sweet, too delectable to hurry.
What if we really figured it out? That gratitude for the seemingly small and insignificant - this is the seed that plants the giant miracle in the midst of it all...so that when you wake in the morning you can't help unfold your hands to the heavens.
And though you grieve and though you wonder...though the world is ugly...it IS beautiful! And though time moves on - its moments are holy.
And though the planets spin and blur - you can slow and you can wake and you can trust and you can pay attention to the moments with this offering of thanks.
Because THIS is how you spend your one life well...receiving each moment for what it really is -
Holy. Ordinary. Amazing Grace. A gift.
(Ann Voskamp)
