Events and the Now

I want to be a person who can live in the moment. As I stop to think about it, I am astounded that after 50 years of life experience, I am still grappling with exactly how to be fully present . . . and fully alive . . . in my immediate “Now.” I have been anxious about the future. I have been nostalgic about the past. I have allowed myself far too much liberty in becoming stressed with the present. But I really don’t think I have mastered . . . in 50 years of living . . . the art of living Now.

I think I have fallen into the trap of living my life as a collection of events.

First there have been the planned events. They were prepared for. They were executed to the best of my ability. Then they were recorded and catalogued . . . in pictures or writings or memories. And they were finally relegated to the recesses of experience where I could access them for future planned events. Neatly packaged.

Then there have been the unplanned events. Some of them wonderfully waltzed into my life with the joy and laughter of a happy surprise. Some of them body-slammed me with the gut-wrenching horror of an unexpected shock. Some of them I have immensely enjoyed. Some of them I have barely survived. They too, of course, were still events . . . life happenings. Just not so neatly packaged.

But I am beginning to wonder if this “life-event” mentality is shortchanging me. If l have been living from one event to another . . . then what has been happening to the in-between times? It certainly cannot be possible that God is silent in-between. It cannot be possible that nothing important transpires in-between. It could, however, be possible that I am missing something in-between.

So . . . maybe . . . instead of life being a collection of events . . . maybe life is a progression of moments. And maybe life’s real challenge isn’t to have successful events but to find real Life in every moment.

If this is true, then my salvation is not just a life-changing event. It is more. It is an astounding moment-to-moment continuing journey with the Creator of the universe. Every moment of every day. Even when the only event happening is a lovely sunset or a quiet starry night.

And motherhood is not just an emotionally-charged birth. It is more. It is a committed, enduring relationship of ups and downs with someone who is so like me yet very much NOT me. Every moment of every day. Even when I haven’t spoken with my child in days . . . or weeks . . . or years.

And my father’s death isn’t just a final medical tragedy. It is more. It is the temporary postponement of a joyous reunion in eternity when there will be no more pain or worry or cancer. Every moment of every day. Even if I miss his laugh and his warm, assuring encouragement today.

DeVern Fromke, in his book Unto Full Stature puts it this way:

It is just here we see the glaring weakness in many fundamental circles. Too many emphasize the past-tense crisis act and almost ignore the privilege of the continuous present participation. They rejoice in the finished work, but know or seemingly care little about the continuous operation of Life within them by the Holy Spirit. It is one thing to have received “Life in the Son,” but it is sure an equal privilege to enjoy the vital participation in Life every day by His Spirit.

Vital participation in Life every day. By His Spirit. I think that is what I need.

Live in the moment. With Him. By Him. Because of Him. Every moment of every day.

Hear Him.
Appreciate Him.
Agree with Him.
Work with Him.

Rejoice with Him.

Let Him console you.
Be loved by Him.
And love Him back.
Through every event.
And especially in-between.

It is true, I think, that events are markers in the progression of our lives. But I am thinking that the stuff life is really made of is its moments. And true artistry is living each one to its fullest. In Him.

I want to be a person who can really live in the moment.

John 1:4
In Him is Life.

Psalms 46:10-11
Lesa K. Reid

A Third Now

. . . now we see through a glass, darkly (KJV)

Now we see but a poor reflection (NIV)

. . . now we see in a mirror dimly (NASB)

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to see everything clearly. With perfect perspective from every angle. Completely understanding the issues in the foreground of my life without losing any clarity with the things that are in the distance or in the background or around the edges.

There will come a time when I will see the Lord face to face. There will come a time when I will know things . . . understand things . . . truly and completely, just as I have been known and understood by Him. There is comfort in that. But if Father had left me with only that . . . peering intently into things that I cannot fully see . . . I think I would despair.

There is however, in the closing verses of 1 Corinthians 13, a third “Now.”

Now I see through a glass darkly.
Now I know in part.
But now faith, hope, love.

Perfect. Father’s ways are always perfect. Some things He clouds. Some things He cloaks. Some things are mysteries unrevealed. But in our groping through the fog . . . and in our questioning through the confusion . . . and in our heart-wringing through the pain or strife . . . He stands with His hand extended. He gives faith. He gives hope. He gives love.

Sometimes we cannot understand.
But we can believe.
And if we turn our eyes from searching . . . and peer intently into Him . . . we will find more than enough to sustain us.
To more than sustain us. His Word assures us of this.

I have seen.
It is true.

For now we see in a mirror dimly,
but then face to face;
now I know in part,
but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.
But now faith, hope, love, abide
these three;
but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:12-13 (NASB)

Psalms 46:10-11
Lesa K. Reid