Living In The Moment

I am sitting in a strange time, sandwiched between a crisis of my father’s health and a crisis of my son’s poor decisions. Two opposite stages of life’s spectrum pushing at me as I am caught in the middle trying to be a good child and responsible parent at the same time.

God’s irony is not lost on me that my father and my son - who even have very similar dispositions – are leaning on each other during this time, mutually dependent for survival. I consider it a small blessing that my son is able right now to assist with the care of my father – and through this experience I am praying that my son will mature. So in this particular blessing I do see the handiwork of God, and I can feel the certainty that we are travelling in God’s greater story. As I reflect on this specific congruence of circumstances I have a glimpse of understanding that I must always be searching for where the connections are to God’s story rather than where He is connecting to mine.

Yesterday’s events gave me specific understanding of what “Living in the Moment” really means.

Having spent the morning with my father as we travelled to yet another doctor appointment, I noticed how my 89 year old father spends his “awake” time. Limited now to life in a wheelchair, with need of attendants for every human function, and suffering from dementia, it is difficult to imagine life from inside my dad’s psyche. This one-time “macho” man – policeman, sportsman, joke-telling Irishman- now spends his days barely speaking, mostly sleeping, and at the total mercy of those who care for him and their decisions for how he will spend his day.

Here is a survival tip I am learning from my dad – live only in the moment. Take each individual second and absorb it completely before it passes on.

I watched my father yesterday as we were seated in the waiting room, very attentively observing his surroundings, deeply concentrating on every printed poster, picture or person in his immediate surroundings. He was capturing the moments…not to store them for future reference, because the dementia has robbed him of that delight, but to live them for what they are in and of themselves. Fleeting moments that happen then move on. This morning I came to these words from Psalm 144 (v4) that seemed to capture my dad’s current state:

Man is like a breath;
His days are like a fleeting shadow

My dad has given me a glimpse of understanding of our positioning in God’s story.
Another shadow of learning came from the opposite side of the spectrum as I spent the afternoon in a different type of office with my son. As we work through a personal crisis of my son’s, a result of living too much in the moment without consideration of consequences or dangers, I see the second half of the equation.

While my father’s situation is like “breathing in” the moment, life requires a two-part action in order to survive. There is also the essential “breathing out” through our active responses to the moments of life. As we “breathe in”…observe and concentrate without taking for granted any of our surroundings…we must then “breathe out” in response to this glory we have observed. Our outward responses must be cognizant of the blessings we are surrounded with that impulsive and self serving actions can destroy.

So God, I thank you for this strange place you have placed me in to be able to observe and learn from these two men in my life. I am “breathing in” your glory and your love, working to absorb your wonder; and “breathing out” my amazement that even in these stressful circumstances you provide insight and comfort that “this too shall pass” in the fleeting shadow of life.

One day a great promise will be fulfilled with complete joy and understanding. Until that time I must continue “breathing in” and “breathing out” these moments of life.