Do you ever have a moment where you feel like part of something bigger than an individual? A moment where the temporal seems to fade and you see a beauty that is an expression of something larger than you rightly know what to do with? I always think of that when I read "Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart" at the birth of Jesus.
There are moments that are treasures and are meant to be stored up and pondered. Little wells of loveliness that can be draw upon at will and never lose their luster.
I had one of those yesterday on, of all things, a parking deck. I was in Savannah for work and had just come back from dinner. The air was a cool breath after a warm day and the sun was the color of living gold. As it sank toward the horizon, I glanced to my left and saw it kissing the crown of an ornate historic building. My steps slowed and I savored, for a moment, the blend of God's and man's work, in harmonious, effortless existence.
My inner poet would not be repressed, as you can tell, and I stood for a minute, forgetting the concrete structure below me, the tourists in too-tight shorts, the work waiting to be done, the exhaust from passing trucks, and even the book in my purse with a dog-eared page eager to be unbent.
That moment is pretty in my mind today and on the long drive home, I took it out a few times to run my finger over the edges and marvel that I caught it at all.
Thank you, God for pretty moments; tiny instants of the promise of what could be and what will be.