The Dogwoods are in bloom. And again, I have missed it. The birds haven't, it is their wonderful drama of flight and chorus that has drawn my eyes to the dogwood. I am left flustered and wondering. Their must be a moment, an instantaneous second of movement from expectancy to birth, one moment where life burst from the bloom, and the glory is revealed. Still another year has passed and everyone was seated at the table save one.
I wonder why I miss so many of these moments. I suppose it could be my life, too busy, too bored, too blessed. Or I supposed it could be that I am just not conscious of the moment at hand, I'm elsewhere in the future or past, across town or the next room.
The simplest truth is, I miss so many of these moments waiting for them, never satisfied, always seeking, ever expecting. Anni Dillard said it best “Because how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
My prayer is this. "Father that I would live each moment, with the same expectations and energy I have assigned for a lifetime. and that you would bless me with many. Amen"
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