The Power of A Moment

Three weeks ago, I spoke about the new movie, In Time, a futuristic thriller which imagines a society where time is the currency and life becomes a never-ending quest to acquire more of
it. Two weeks ago, Deb and I saw the movie. One observation: there’s a lot of running in this movie. And why not? It’s about time, and time is always running out. Then Sunday, Pastor Stephen referred to it in his message (no, we are not getting residuals), so once again I reflected
on the implications. I thought of a song Chris Rice wrote years ago, entitled “The Power of a
Moment.” The chorus went like this:

You know the number of my days So come paint Your pictures on the canvas in my head And come write Your wisdom on my heart Teach me the power of a moment.

These words suggest that we don’t naturally default to placing a high value on time. The One who has ordained the number of our days has to teach us to live in the moment. Left to ourselves, we tend to live as if time will never run out. Much like the makeup opportunities we
have for everything from missed piano lessons to college entrance exams, we assume that we can always do just about anything later.

The prophet Isaiah warned: “Seek the Lord while He may found; call on Him while He is near.”
The apostle Paul reiterates this in 2 Corinthians 6:2 “In the time of my favor, I heard you, and
in the day of salvation I helped you.” I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day
of salvation.” If none of us can really control how much time we have left, then what we can
choose to do is make the most of what we have—namely, this moment! Honestly, we don’t
even have the rest of today, tomorrow, or next week guaranteed to us. I think about a friend
I had, back in my College Hill days, who was picnicking with his wife and two young children,
suffered an aneurism, and died before he hit the grass under the table. My point is not to be
maudlin or to scare you into action. It’s to encourage you to maximize each moment God gives
you.

Think back to your childhood. For a moment, don’t reflect on periods of time (my first summer
camp experience, my favorite Christmas, the year my parents split up, etc.). Instead, let your
mind lock in to certain specific moments that have really had an impact on you. For many, if
not all, of you, it might be the day you received Christ as your Savior and Lord. Maybe it was
the birth of your first child, or the day you left home. For others, it could be a historic event,
such as the day JFK or Martin Luther King were assassinated, or the day the space shuttle
Challenger exploded before our very eyes.

But what about those moments which seemingly came out of nowhere which not only impacted
you but also really shaped who you are today or how you look at life? I still remember my Aunt
Millie cupping my face in her hands and telling me I had “smiling eyes.” I think I was nine. I still
remember it like it was yesterday. And yet there was an even more powerful moment in my
childhood which left an indelible print on my mind and heart. It involved my mother and me. It
was not planned. It was not pretty. But it was profound.

Our family of eight lived in a small parsonage (preacher’s home owned by the church) in
Aberdeen, South Dakota. The smallest room in the house, other than the one bathroom,
was the kitchen. It was separated from the dining room by a swinging door. On one special
occasion when we were preparing to have company for dinner, I was helping set the table
(don’t think too highly of this action—I’m sure it was conscripted service). I remember being
in a bit of a hurry, and as I rushed into the kitchen for more tableware, I swung the door into
my mother, who was standing on the other side holding a bowl of beans. Like I said, it was not
pretty. Nor was her reaction. She screamed at me, and I, being the young stud that I was, ran
screaming up the stairs to my bedroom. Soon after, I was summoned back to the kitchen to
my mom’s waiting arms for a big hug and an apology for her tirade. She admitted that it was
obvious I was only trying to help.

In truth, I believe that moment was so powerful mainly because her physical gesture of
approval was so rare. She had a very difficult time expressing those kinds of tender emotions,
having grown up in the home of an abusive, alcoholic father. And yet in a moment, she
decided to swallow her pride and dial into my pain. In a moment, she modeled the need for
even big people to admit their faults to little people. And she chose to kneel down, make a
physical connection, and reassure me of her love, even when time was running out before our
guests arrived.

Are moments powerful? Chris concludes his song with these words:

I get so distracted by my bigger schemes Show me the importance of the simple things Like a word, a seed, a thorn, a nail And a cup of cold water.

Who in your sphere of influence needs an encouraging word from you today? Who needs a cup
of cold water? Who needs to hear that thorns and nails were endured on their behalf by a
loving Savior? Look around. Don’t miss…better yet, take full advantage of the power of a
moment.

-tad