Sometimes I’ll be going about my day, just my normal everyday activities of teaching, writing, cleaning, cooking, when all at once my breath catches and I see Heaven shining down on my kitchen.
Nothing out of the ordinary is happening, but all of a sudden it’s like someone flushed out my eyeballs because I can so clearly see a moment I want to remember.
Last night it was Leila twirling in her favorite purple dress, the one she made me cut the tulle off of. The one she wears day and night, no matter the occasion. I have to sneak it out of her room at night to get it in the wash.
There she was twirling and twirling in front of me. She had written the beginnings of a poem about Cinderella in her own sweet spelling (bloo = blue) and was reading it as she spun.
Looking down from where I was preparing dinner, it hit me. I wanted to remember that moment for the rest of my life. I gathered it all in. The purple dress, the ballet slippers, the long blond hair, the pride in her voice as she read her own writing.
Just for a moment, Heaven in my kitchen.
So whether my day is hectic or peaceful, I’m doing my best to capture these glimpses. Not photos, I take too many of those already. Just mental snapshots. A pause to revel in the sweetness of a moment.
Like Joe goofily waving at me from the little league field with no self consciousness at all. Or Jeff comforting Leila like only a father can. (Ok fine, I took a picture of that one.)
These are holy moments, and life is better when I recognize them as such.
When light peeks through the cracks just for an instant, I stop and whisper “thank you” before life moves on.
In a way, this gathering of moments is building up a highlight reel of my life. Not one to show off to the masses, but the movie that will play behind my wrinkly eyelids as I rest in bed 50 years from now.
I want to etch these moments onto my heart and mind forever and ever.
Maybe you can try it too?
All it takes is a tiny pause. A few seconds to acknowledge this moment, this tiny miracle as your breath catches in your throat and you whisper “thank you.”