Wednesday Wonder – January 24, 2024

A moment in time.

I have been thinking about moments in time this week. When I stepped into my Dad’s house and saw it frozen in time from when he unexpectedly went to the hospital, it was like he was abducted by aliens or something. The dishes from his lunch were still on the counter, coffee still in the pot and other little things that illustrated Dad left quickly and it wasn’t planned. The house stood as a snapshot in time.

Then when I was visiting with Dad at the hospital, I handed him my phone so he could scroll through the many, many pictures of my grandson, his great-grandson. Each picture showed a moment in time and together they showed a progression of growth that happens so quickly in babies. Each picture is of a moment in time.

Our days are a series of moments in time. Usually we don’t see life that way. We look at larger time frames like days and weeks. And then, something draws us up short, bad news, good news, we are involved in some action and time sort of stops short. That moment in time becomes an important part of life.

How many people talk about remembering where they were when an incident like the Twin Towers being hit, or that the Queen had died? But there are also the more personal moments we remember. When did your spouse propose, the birth of your first child or grandchild, devastating health news or the death of a loved one: these are moments in time that are as significant to us as those big moments that society as a whole deems important.

What struck me as I drove the long and winding road home to see my Dad, was how we can savour every moment in time. I was tired so I needed to stay focused. It was a beautiful day as I drove and I noticed in a way I haven’t for a long while how beautiful and rugged the landscape of the way home can be. I tried to be present in each moment as I drove. Not because the car in front of me wasn’t going as fast as I might like, or that I just wanted to reach my destination, but because those moments are gone once they pass. I need to remember them more. I need to engage with them more while they exist.

I have tried to be a “stop and smell the flowers” kind of person, but life gets so busy and the flowers can end up trampled under foot. This noticing of moments requires us to slow down. Not something valued in our world these days. But what a wonderful state of mind I was in by the time I reached my Dad’s hospital room after a drive that offered many moments. There was the fox that ran across in front of me, but far enough away I didn’t have to do anything but admire how healthy he looked. There were the birds that took flight as I drove by a pond. The stretch of wings and the calling to one another catching the eye because of the sun glinting off feathers. Natural moments soothed the soul despite not knowing how I would really find my Dad when I reached him.

And sometimes, there are the moments in time that offer us the chance to help another. I was gifted such a moment before I got in my car to come back home. One of the others in Dad’s room was told he had only weeks to live and that decisions about palliative care for dying at home, or going to hospice needed to be made. The curtains between beds do not allow for much privacy when the doctor has to raise their voice to ensure the patient is hearing what they have to say. The whole room went quiet. It was a moment in time that many people will remember. We happened to know the family. Small towns are like that. And when no one else came to offer any spiritual comfort I asked if I might pray with them. They gratefully accepted and we shared a moment that I won’t forget. As I left a short while later the patient’s spouse stopped me to say thank you and to let me know I had made a difference in a very difficult day.

Everyone has a story. Sometimes we get to be a part of it, sometimes we have no idea. Even a smile or a hug would have helped that day. I am just blessed enough to be able to be comfortable to offer a little more. But every time we share a bit of ourselves in a smile, a hug or a kind word, we may have just created a moment in time where others will never forget that someone cared when they were feeling lost and alone.

For me, this is what it means when we say in our creed: “We are not alone, God is with us.” We are God’s hands and feet. When we take a moment to care about others, we are doing God’s work. And that may create a moment in time that will always be remembered.

Peace,
Rev. Mary-Jane