There is a special magic in the every day that I try to make it a point to grab hold of and savour. Do you ever want to take photographs with your mind and hold on to moments as they slip through your fingers?
The sunshine hits a tree just so that it springs to life for the briefest of moments from where you are standing, and you know that no one else in the world has seen or will see exactly what you’re seeing right now.
Your little boy is playing with his Daddy upstairs and you hear giggles and squeals and mushytoddlerspeak that will sound completely different six months from now.
A little boy with a chocolate mustache and a huge ice cream cone comes out of the ice cream shop. His big single scoop slides off the cone and lands on the ground. He quickly swoops it up, slaps it back on and digs in.
A tiny life is being knit together inside you — and you feel a little hand or foot pushing your tummy from the inside. You push back, he pushes back, and you know — this moment is so brief. It won’t be like this for long.
There is a little magic in every day just waiting to be savoured — a little taste of divine joy. It’s an opportunity to see something just as it is, knowing it is just once that it will be this way, and you can join in with the heavens, thinking that must’ve put a grin on the Maker’s face too.
God and me, we are both smiling about this.
But there are days too, you know, where things don’t seem so magical. Days when the discomfort or heaviness of life as you know it, of being thirty-some weeks full of life on its way and bursting at the seams, or being thirty-some months full of work you don’t enjoy, or thirty-some years into a relationship and keeping on seems just too hard.
It seems in my case, the discomfort of being pregnant can distract me from the miracle that’s happening because of it. And I think life is a lot like that: the discomfort of the moment that we’re walking through distracts us from the glorious birth around the corner. And it also distracts us from the mundane-beautiful of the moments we should be savouring, because it won’t be like this for long.
I am indeed aware as I wake each day it won’t be like this for long — as we all should be aware, because change is the great human inevitability.
Though your days may be filled with discomfort and challenge — though heartburn or heartbreak may seem guests who’ve worn out their welcome and stayed on — there is still something beautiful for you to savour in this moment. There are glorious heaven-sent glimpses, there for the tasting and the seeing. There, and oh-so good.
Taste and see today. You only get one shot.