I was walking into Evans for breakfast one morning this past week (what a surprise, I know…). And because of the hour, it was just as the sun was coming up. Over the years, there have been some amazing sunrises. And that morning promised to be another one.
Me (and my poor old tremors) pulled out my camera and started focusing. I found the colors through the lens, held my breath and snapped a couple pictures.
What was so funny to me when I looked at the pictures I’d taken just a few seconds before…was how cluttered things looked…how crowded things looked…how city-fied my sunrise moment had become.
“The wires are in the way. Look, everything’s distracted. There’s too many poles and cars and buildings to even see the sunrise at all,” I was thinking to myself.
And then the “ah ha.”
Actually, if the truth were told, so many moments are like this one: “If you could see past the wires to the sunrise, you would have seen the beauty I saw…” OR “If you had known her when she was younger…” “OR “if I had my old job back, you’d know what I could do…”
My "ah ha" moment invited me to pay attention...
My “ah ha” moment invited me to be intentional about participating. My “ah-ha” invited me to be present in the moments that are always taking place around me. So often things can get swept up together and the beauty in the midst of the moment gets missed. The beauty is there. Right there in the center, right there in the heart of the picture. But there is so much busy-ness around it and too often, we allow that moment of beauty to get lost.
Sunrises and sunsets come to us; a single bird singing out a solo chorus of “Alleluia” comes to us; a hand on the shoulder at just the right time comes to us and it’s up to us to celebrate. It’s up to us to breathe deeply and give thanks for this precious journey we are taking. It’s up to us to not miss the beauty in the midst of the busy-ness. It’s up to us to see past and through the wires to what is bringing us life and joy.
Working as a Hospice Chaplain, Lesley is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ. A Candler School of Theology graduate, Lesley has just published her second book, Grief and the Psalms: Companioning the Moon for 29 Days (available on this website). She and her partner, Linda Ellis are raising their two sons, Brogan and Sam in Decatur, GA.