To be honest, for me it feels like climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro to get our family to church on a Sunday morn. So I don’t take it for granted when we are here with you. I am thankful for this space, for the people who fill the pews with us and getting to sit next to my children, for the quiet peace you can find in the midst of a worship service and a moment to listen to someone speak and to actively think without a device in my hand. It’s a bit of a miracle for me!
But then the week begins and that feeling can start to fade away in the midst of our circular world of work and chores and to do lists.
So that is why I love to be reminded by Fredrick Bechner that “The sacred moments, the moments of miracle, are often the everyday moments…”
He writes, “the moments which, if we do not look with more than our eyes or listen with more than our ears, reveal only…the gardener, a stranger coming down the road behind us, a meal like any other meal. But if we look with our hearts, if we listen with all of our being and our imagination — if we live our lives from the miracle of one instant of our precious lives to the miracle of the next — what we may see is Jesus himself and what we may hear is the first faint sound of a voice somewhere deep within us saying that there is a purpose in this life, in our lives, whether we can understand it completely or not; and that this purpose follows behind us through all our doubting and being afraid, through all our indifference and boredom, to a moment when suddenly we know for sure that everything does make sense because everything is in the hands of God.”