Perfect Moment

Last night I had one of those perfect moments - the kind you see in movies where the camera zooms in, the music swells, and time stands still. It was getting close to bedtime. Here's how it went down: My husband and I had been sitting on the couch upstairs. No TV. No radio. No distractions. Just chatting and enjoying each others' company. We watched through the patio door as the lightning played tag on the horizon. I had seen in the forecast that we were supposed to get some storms, so I yawned, stretched, and ambled over to close the windows. As I reached up to grab the handle, a gust of refreshingly-cool air enveloped me. It made that whistling sound that is so ominous in the winter, but so inviting on a sticky, humid spring day. My muscles flexed to draw down the window, and I took a deep breath in. That's when it happened - perfection.

If you have never stopped to really pay attention to the scent of Spring, this next part won't make a lot of sense. But, that's what I smelled. In that one moment, all of the hope, and joy, and exuberant victory of  Spring came into my home and my heart. It was healing and refreshing. It was rich and abundant. It was delicious. I stood there drawing in deep breaths full of freshly-turned soil, lightning-crisp evening air, and the thick scent of newly-opened lilac blossoms from the bush just beneath the window. I hate to overstate it, but I was enchanted - positively unable to move away from that spot for a full minute or so. My husband came over, put his hand on my shoulder, and we drank the sweet smells in together.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. I shut the window. Time resumed. The camera panned out, and the music faded. Perfect moment finished; back to everyday life. But, here's the thing - it wasn't over. Not really. The breeze that had cooled me had also put me in a better mood, so I was more patient with my giggly little girls at bedtime, and they woke up happier because of it. The sweet scent of lilacs (one of my all-time favorite flowers) that lingered in my mind was the perfect aromatherapy to help me drift off to one of the best night's sleep I've had in weeks. And, there is something about being literally filled with the scent of new life and vigor that changes a person, but only if you let it.

I am convinced that God sends such moments into our lives each and every day as gifts. He knows that there is much about life that is jarring and brutal, wearing and mundane. The daily grind can easily nibble away at a person's soul. God is not unaware of our struggles or unwilling to send us relief. Instead, it is all too often we who are simply unable to accept it. Did my moment at the window take away the mounting bills or make the hard decisions I face any easier? No. But, it did connect me - in a powerful and intimate way - with the God who is sovereign enough to order the seasons and cause the earth to bloom anew each year.

I still have tasks to complete that I think are beyond my capabilities, but my time at the window was a powerful reminder that they certainly aren't beyond His. And, if I can be open enough to let Him reach my heart through the moments of perfection that He sends, I know He will also be able to calm my mind and guide my hands as well. Life is no less challenging than it was before, but it is a lot less lonely. I could have chosen last night to focus on the approaching storm and put all of my frenzied energy into trying to protect myself from the potential threats that came with it. I could have rushed and hurried in order to be efficient, but sometimes when we focus on the storm and the struggle, we miss the breeze and the blessings.

I do not know when the next perfect moment will come. I don't know which of my senses it will engage or what I will be in the middle of when it comes along. But, I know it will be perfect, and healing, and bring answers and peace beyond my wildest expectations, if I will only let it.