Cherish the moment

It's there in the morning: slices of golden light on my wall through the window. The time change has allowed me to be present to see it. It doesn't last long; it is a small strip of time that the light places itself there, resting. Then, it moves on. My breath catches each time it happens; I forget to expect it, this miracle that presents itself to me each morning, this miracle that gives itself in the fact that not only does this type of beauty happen in the world, but it's happening presently, in this place where I am, and I am here for it. It brings my heart back to God, this quiet beckoning. Gives me the courage to rise, get up.

Part of what makes it so beautiful, I believe, is that it doesn't last for long. One must embrace it in the moment to receive the gift of appreciating it, and then one must be content to let it go as the world keeps spinning, grateful to have been born to bear witness to such beauty. To be alive to it and with it. All we can do is stand and be.

It's part of being swept up, I think, in this mystery of relating to the divine as a human, in this venture of God seeking us and finding us where we are. God is the Creator of time, that concept we are subject to, that idea that amazes and terrifies us. What do we do about it, except accept the gift?

The other day, I was eating my lunch in the park and witnessed it. Cars pulling to the side of the road to let a funeral procession pass by. It is one of the most beautiful customs the people of our nation carry on, I believe, this practice of pausing our busy lives to acknowledge the life of a stranger, to give 30 seconds to say "thank you" for the dignity of one unique life that was lived. To use our time to grieve with the people who loved and love still the person whose body is being driven to its resting place. To remember, in a healthy pause, that we, too, are dust and someday to dust we will return. To be revitalized by the truth that we are alive, and the gift is ours to go forward with and live.

"Such knowledge is too wonderful for me," Jonathan Ogden sings in the song "You See." Somewhere in the Bible, I'm sure it says it, too. This glory we get to revel in, if only for a brief bit in the grand scope of time. This provision we live within, these ways we get to experience being human. The Mystery of this love. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me.

These moments where we recognize our aliveness and the God who is in love with human beings, the depth and height and breadth of this God and this love we are subject to.

For these, we say thank you.