LITTLE MOMENTS

By Rebecca Phillips

Fourth Sunday in Advent / I Am With You

It happens in the little moments now – the way Sheri tosses her blonde head and glances at me through her wiry curls – her seven year old eyes challenging me . . . or when my wife is just waking up – her eyes still warm with night – her voice – soft – as tho’ still trapped in a dream.

Little moments like noticing the first delicate bloom after winter – or those tiny birds that look like they’re wearing tuxedos splashing beneath sprinklers – those moments . . . Or when Josh has spaghetti sauce all over his bib. And head. And up his nose. And all over the floor. And – all over me. Moments that I realize that the Father is with me. Involved in my life – for the rest of my life.

The rest of my life. When I was a kid, my grandpa used to ask me what I was going to do with “the rest of my life” – so, all my life, I planned for – worked tirelessly towards – the rest of my life. I sometimes neglected weeding the flowerbed on account of the rest of my life. I even neglected weeding out hurt in my marriage on account of the rest of my life.

There was always tomorrow, right? “I’ve got vacation time coming”, I’d say. I hadn’t taken a vacation for the last 8 years. Why? You guessed it. I was working towards the rest of my life.

And then He spoke to me in the quietness of a moment. It was in a doctor’s office – the stale white walls stared at me as the doctor insisted I slow down. When I started making more excuses, he simply said, “If you don’t slow down, you’ll simply end up stopping. Permanently.” Lord, you were in that moment, and in all moments. I finally realized that life is found in little, temporary moments that build to one big grand eternal finale moment with you.

I used to think the grand finale was the “other side” – the greener side of life – the side that we work so hard to get to. Well, I got there and discovered that the grass is actually brown because of all of the burning sacrifices I made of family, friends, and the little moments – sacrifices that I arrogantly called “offerings” for a better life.

I’ve discovered that there is no “other side”. In fact, there is just the now – and now that I know that, I can’t get enough of it. In the last month, my life has gone from “fast forward – go here, buy this – drive thru windows – staring at late night TV – too tired to talk to my wife days – to slow motion – pay attention to Sheri’s giggle – there’s a red bird at your window and Josh just wiggled his fat baby toes – to this is your life live it” . . .

Thank you Father. Thank you for reminding me that I need to weed the flowerbed – and my heart. Thank you for spaghetti messes and springtime blooms. And for little moments.