21 Aug The Gift of the Present Moment

The sun burned warm upon my back as I heard my five year old son’s voice calling out to me from across the pool. “Mom! Watch me! I’m going to do the high dive!” I waved at him to show him I was watching. Every few steps up the ladder he looked back my way to make sure I was still engaged. I kept waving to assure him I hadn’t been distracted – my eyes were still on him.

He approached the end of the board and made a valiant leap into the air, his tiny body seeming to hover mid-air, his arms and legs extended in a moment of sheer joy. I smiled and laughed, clapping my hands with delight. His head bobbed to the surface, his eyes once again looking for my own. “Did you see, Mom? Did you see me jump?” “Yes, Joseph! You did great!” His joy was complete.

Moments before “the big jump” my mind had been elsewhere. Pondering the year ahead, thinking through logistics and schedules and mentally noting items that were outstanding on my “pre-school” to do list.

And then his voice came, cutting through my mental clutter and bringing me back to where I actually was – at the pool, enjoying the summer sun. His entreaty to “watch me, Mom!” reminded me that half of his enjoyment in jumping off that high dive came from his mother witnessing his moment, sharing his delight, celebrating with him.

Jean de la Bruyere said, “Children have neither past nor future; they enjoy the present, which very few of us do.” Every day, my children invite me to rejoice in the present moment. They call me God-ward in their zest for today – in the catching of butterflies and bugs, splashing in the pool, singing and dancing in the yard. School may be starting in a week, but they aren’t thinking about that.

I sit at my computer, pounding on the keys with conviction as I seek to complete a seminary assignment due that day. I hear the rain pouring down on our house. I somehow tune it out, continuing my work. The children sit by the window, watching the rain come down, listening to the rhythm of the drops penetrating our yard outside. Because they are there, watching and waiting, they see when the clouds part and a large rainbow emerges in the sky outside the window.

Their voices excitedly yell for me, “Mom, come quick! Look! There is a rainbow!” I stop my key-pounding mid-thought, mid-sentence, and stand up.

Barefoot, I run to the front yard and stand open-mouthed with our neighbors, also ripped away from their productivity, to gaze upon a picture of promise hanging in the sky. A sign and a wonder that I almost missed. And I remember that sometimes – no, often, what we see as distractions are actually some of the best moments of life.

Our work is a gift from God, of course, and we meet Him in the pounding of keys and the planting of fields, the mowing of grass and slicing of watermelon. And I remember as my eyes open in the morning and I pour my coffee that what really matters is that I am conscious of God here with me now and that I am fully alive to His presence and purpose in this hour. For, as C.S. Lewis says so well, “The Present is the moment where time and eternity meet.”

Lord, help me to be fully engaged in your purposes for my life today. May I not squander precious moments meditating on the regrets or pains of the past or on the worries of tomorrow. May I receive with gladness the gift of this day and bear witness to each moment’s grace and glory. May I not be blind to your signs and wonders; may I marvel at your rainbows of promise.