From Preparing to Cherishing
What a life of small moments might look like.
I’m horrible at preparing. I grew up around folks who were “always ready” or “born ready” (or at least acted like it). I loved these people and naturally wanted to be like them, so, I cultivated a distorted relationship to readiness. I would ask myself questions like these:
If I have to be always ready, for anything that life throws at me, what does my day-to-day look like?
How long can I stay “on”?
What do I have to be ready for next?
I wish, for a moment that I grew up around folks who talked about how much time it took to get ready for things. I’m not just talking about getting a good night’s sleep before a big test either. I’m talking about getting ready for a the big moments of life. At least, then I’d realize how much time things took. Am I the only one who doesn’t like to wait?
If you’ve been following my most recent project on rest, you’ll know that I had my own personal crash in 2019. If there is anything that I’m learning as I come to the other side, it is this: As I rushed to get to the big moments of life – those “mountain top experiences” – I missed all the little moments that make such things even possible. They happened, but I did’t realize it. Once I ascended to one mountain top, I just saw the next mountain.
It is probably possible to live a life only of going from one mountain top experience to another. I’ve tried, had an amazing run, and don’t want it. I’ve had amazing mountain top experiences – professional and personal. I know what it takes to climb, and what the descent is like, too. With all that in mind, I’ve landed with a peculiar sentiment.
It is the small moments of life – a smile from a friend, a hello from a neighbor, and the stillness of time in fellowship with God – that make the mountain top experiences meaningful. These are sacred moments. These are the small things that get you ready for the big life moments. They should be honored and cherished.
If the life I’ve cultivated in the habit of going from one mountain top to another means I’ve missed out on experiencing these small moments fully, I don’t want it. The fullness of life is the opposite of what it might look like from the outside. Let the mountain tops (and valleys) come. I’ll be here cherishing every small, sacred, moment.