Several weeks ago we had the chance
to take 3 days away.
It was lovely.
I believe that it was actually... necessary.
If you doubt me, ask my wife.
We were able to breathe deep, and take in our moments together.
We reminisced about when we were younger versions of ourselves on respite at a location we haven't been to for at least 25 years.
There were sunsets to look at and walks along the sea.
There was peace of mind.
There was joy.
Reflection.
In that reflection I came to something I felt significant to share...
As I grow older I feel a greater desire to find access to the kindness that
is not native to my heart, but it flows over and through everything that is part
of who God is. It's the threshold of our entry into his presence. (See Romans 2)
All we have is moments.
With him.
With others.
Less moments remaining tomorrow than we have today.
Yet, it's not about hurry.
A man came into our offices a week ago and gave us an estimate for an alarm system update.
I asked how his week was going.
He said, "Honestly, I'm a bit overwhelmed."
Then he went on to tell me that about ten days earlier his wife, who was struggling with mental illness had wandered off, and then eight days after that, the police had found her body.
"I'm so sorry", I said.
The man continued to elaborate about his family history and the processes they were
sorting through up to this day.
At the moment he began speaking, I realized that for me, this was all there was that was happening in the world.
This instant.
This connection. Nothing else mattered.
We talked in hushed tones for a bit longer and then I asked him if I could pray.
He said yes, so we did.
I asked him to let me know if there was anything at all that we could do
to further help him. And he said something that I've heard many say,
"It's actually been good to get back to some work and think some about other things."
We took deep breaths.
I put my arm across his shoulders.
And then he shifted back to explaining the new alarm system.
I don't always catch the significance of a meeting.
I'm sure I miss more than I want to acknowledge.
But this was obvious, and I didn't miss it.
Paul put it this way...
(Amplified) Ephesians 5:2 "Walk continually in love [that is, value one another—practice empathy and compassion, unselfishly seeking the best for others], just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and sacrifice to God [slain for you, so that it became] a sweet fragrance.
A young friend of mine once penned the frustrations of living life at the intersection of the eternal and the temporary in a song titled, "Another Sliver of Eternity."
It's a calling out.
A yearning that we would hold our moments as precious.
That we would see beyond the immediate and yet be completely present with each other.
We are woven into it all. The lighter
threads and darker ones as well.
threads and darker ones as well.
For purposes greater than we can see right now.
It is not meant to be heavy, but light; easy but worthwhile.
Our moments are valuable.
Particularly when committed to the one who made us,
And then also shared in appeal to those around us, made in his image,
Yet not aware.
"Another Sliver of Eternity" YouTube link: (Enjoy!) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySkGgFQhZxg
