We have this moment to hold in our hands
Tender words gentle touch and a good cup of coffee
And someone who loves me and wants me to stay
Hold them dear while they’re near don’t wait for tomorrow
To look back and wish for today.
Yesterday’s gone and tomorrow may never come
but we have this moment, today.
– Gloria Gaither
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
– Robert Frost
Finding the Mate of Your Dreams
And this quote from Billy Graham gives me hope that everything doesn’t have to always be hunky dory….
Ruth and I don’t have a perfect marriage, but we have a great one. In a perfect marriage, everything is always the finest and best imaginable; like a Greek statue, the proportions are exact and the finish is unblemished. Who knows any human beings like that? For a married couple to expect perfection in each other is unrealistic. We learned that even before we married.
The unblemished ideal exists only in “happily ever after” fairy tales. I think that there is some merit to a description I once read of a married couple as “happily incompatible.” Ruth likes to say, “If two people agree on everything, one of them is unnecessary.” The sooner we accept that as a fact of life, the better we will be able to adjust to each other and enjoy togetherness.
I sit in front of a live broadcast of the memorial service for Michael Jackson, and the surrounding activities in his honor.
I can’t help but wonder if Michael ever caught a glimpse of eternity. They say he was raised Jehovah’s Witness, but “dabbled” in Christianity, Islam, and Kabbalah. Did he hear God calling him by name, whispering in the silence, singing over him as he cried for the arms of a Father’s loving emrace that was so foreign to him on earth?
Life only begins here. There are only a certain number of breaths and moments we are given in this mortal body before eternity breaks upon us, and this vapor of mortal life is past.
So whether we are given just a few, or a great many breaths down here, would it not seem that every one of them should strain toward what lies beyond this, what will last forever?
I think I would rather be sitting on some high mountain looking over the rim to watch the first rays of a sunrise burst into view, small at first, sprinkling through the trees, and bringing music and color and hope to everything it kisses. It whispers, “wake up.”, and if I am very silent, and very still, I can hear it.