Miracle of the Moment

I woke up this morning slightly exhausted and dizzy from the vast quantities of news I consumed yesterday. The situation in San Diego is changing every hour. I'm so thankful to have high-speed Internet access at times like this, since it allows me to keep tabs on the developments via a live stream of news from my old station. (When we moved to the country four years ago, we went from high-speed to 24.4 kb dial-up, which was more painful than childbirth for me. Thank you, Lord, for returning me to civilization!)

Many of my friends have been evacuated from their homes. But then again, more than 500,000 people have been evacuated in San Diego County. It's pretty simple to find someone you know in a group of half a million. (By the way, to give you a little perspective, during the Cedar Fire of 2003, which burned down our house, about 50,000 people were evacuated. That's how much bigger this fire is.)

My brother and 38-week-pregnant sister-in-law have not been evacuated. They are northwest of the fire pattern right now. But they are wearing air masks inside their house, since the entire county is covered with a thick layer of ash and smoke. (At least, Michael is. Julie, my fellow preggo, is too hot to deal with breathing through a filter. Can't say I blame her.)

Obviously, it's easy for me to be consumed today by the latest news coming out of San Diego. But truthfully, it's my nature to get consumed by whatever is right in front of my face -- the to-do list, the dinner making, the laundry folding, the errand running. The tyranny of the urgent. I would hate to know how many times my kids have heard me say something like this: "Hang on, honey. I'll play with you as soon as I'm done [choose one: dusting, vacuuming, writing, cooking, talking]." It's something I struggle with, and it's a battle I've only recently begun to fight with vigor.

You may have a different weakness, something else that causes scales to fall over your eyes so you don't see the beauty around you. The shadow of depression. The haunting of a past you regret. The insistence of a job that demands more and more and more.

Which is why this new song from Steven Curtis Chapman is so timely and so wise.

It's actually the theme song from "This Moment," Steven's newest album, which hit the streets today. (Not that I have any idea how an album would actually hit the streets. Wouldn't it just shatter into a million, unplayable pieces if that happened?)

If you have a nearby Christian radio station, you may have already heard this song. It was released as a single a few weeks ago. If you haven't heard it, you can hear a 30-second clip here here (Windows Media Player). Of if you have and prefer iTunes, you can check the store.

Either way, the lyrics -- which make or break a song for me -- are below. Read them once. Then read them again slowly so they really sink in.

It's time for letting go
All of our "if onlies"
Cause we don't have a time machine

And even if we did
Would we really want to use it
Would we really want to go change everything

Cause we are who and where and what we are for now
And this is the only moment we can do anything about

So breathe it in and breathe it out
And listen to your heartbeat
There's a wonder in the here and now
It's right there in front of you
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment

There's only One who knows
What's really out there waiting
And all the moments yet to be

And all we need to know
Is He's out there waiting
To Him the future's history

And He has given us a treasure called right now
And this is the only moment we can do anything about

So breathe it in and breathe it out
And listen to your heartbeat
There's a wonder in the here and now
It's right there in front of you
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment

And if it brings you tears
Then taste them as they fall
Let them soften your heart

And if it brings you laughter
Then throw your head back
And let it go
Let it go, yeah
You gotta let it go
And listen to your heartbeat

Breathe it in and breathe it out
And listen to your heartbeat
There's a wonder in the here and now
It's right there in front of you
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment.

Right now. This moment. It's all we have. And while laundry needs to get folded and dinner made, this song is a perfect reminder to look up. Look around. Stop. Breathe. Smile.

It's a gift, from the One who gives the best gifts. I, for one, don't want to miss it.

Reminder: I'm giving away a free copy of SCC's (Can I call him that? Or does that cross the groupie line?) "This Moment" on Friday. Leave me a comment on this post to enter the drawing. If you don't want to wait, you can buy the album today at Christian bookstores, Amazon or iTunes.