With each birthday, we have the sense of time flying by. Time, of course, doesn’t change gears, and if you watch the second hand, you’ll see it’s rather slow. But it’s like the tortoise, and while we rush ahead and then, overconfident, take a nap, it passes us by.
I think we’re shocked at those moments where our children are tall or our faces are wrinkled or we get an invitation to a reunion for a specific reason. The profound is made up of little increments of the mundane. Over time, you realize you’ve passed through the profound and not noticed it, because there were no trumpets playing as you did. You make a lunch, you drive to school, you say ‘I love you,’ you ask how the day was, you tuck them in, and a moment later you’ve raised a child. The profound is made up of series of things that don’t look all that profound.
I guess I’m particularly aware of this as a Pastor. I’m always telling people to make sure they do things which they can easily brush aside as unnecessary. But this is what’s going to happen. Perhaps you go to church, or perhaps you go to the beach. Perhaps you tithe, or perhaps you keep it. Perhaps you teach your kids the Bible, or tell a friend about Jesus, or take part in a mission project. Either way, it all has the appearance of being mundane, and being optional. And then one day you stand in front of the throne of God, and there was your spiritual life.
Life is a little bit sneaky, in that it’s more than a sum of its parts. So off to the day to make the most of the parts.