The miracle of the moment

[This post was written a few days ago]

I think I spend most of my time living in any moment but the present. I think about the past, conversations I had, people I knew, my favorite life experiences, my most hated life experiences. I think of what will happen in the following day, in the next 2 days, or next months, the goal I'm pushing toward, or wishing I was at that goal already. I think about how I'm going to miss my family, Guatemalan life, being involved in ministry, having life so 'simple'. I beg God to help heal me of my wounds from the past, I seek Him and ask Him to provide for my future, to be everything I'll need Him to be while I'm following Him to the unknown.
But when do I live life right now? When do I stop and smell the roses, slow down, take time to embrace who I am right now, what's going on in life right now? It's ironic to stop and think about.

Tonight God showed me how to live life right now, on March 18th, 2013.

I live in a household of 11. I have 5 younger siblings. The Fulp household on a normal basis is pretty loud, crazy, a bit overwhelming, and absolutely beautiful. But even as beautiful as it is, there are those times where you just need a moment of quiet, of calm, of solitude.. And there are only a few paces you can go to actually get that peace and quiet.. And let me just say, the living room isn't one of them.

For some crazy reason, I decided to pick the living room to read my book this evening. "Really?" you might ask. Well, to my defense, no one was in there at the time..
I turn on the lamp (the sun had already disappeared for the night), I sit lop-sided on the chair, open my book to the place I had previously left off, read the first paragraph, and 3 children run through the room, definitely putting to use the healthy set of lungs God gave them. They were making as much noise as they possibly could and at first, annoyance started to build in me. But soon after, I realized. For one thing, that's what I get for picking the most central spot in the house to read my book. I also realized that soon I am going to be miles and miles away from home, missing those piercing squeals and contagious giggles. They are gifts that God gave me, gifts that are irreplaceable and so very precious. I'm going to wish I had those incredible people there to distract me from my book, causing me to re-read the same sentence a million times before I just give up and join in their fun. How much longer will I have to see them as young people, still so innocent and not yet fully knowing of the evil that goes on around them? How much longer will I have to hold them, to kiss them, to be absolutely CRAZY with them, to stroke their cheeks and tell them they're beautiful and I am proud of them? How much longer will I have to be their big sister, to teach them about Jesus, to be the best example I can be, to love them with His burning passion in me? My days with them are numbered and I wish so badly that the number could be bigger.
So I sat with a smile on my face, praising Jesus for the giggles and squeals, for their loud interruption, for their beautiful kid-hearts. I played Phase 10 for longer than I had originally bargained for, and I spent time just hanging out and laughing instead of cleaning my messy room (I know there is a time to do so and I will soon), instead of reading my Bible early so I wouldn't go to bed late; instead of missing it. They are my family, my home, my everything.. I can't give that up and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

So here I am, writing this too late, still having yet to read my Bible before I close my eyes for the night, but it was worth it. I didn't miss the right now. I didn't miss today. I didn't miss the miracle of the moment.

Tomorrow? I have no idea what tomorrow holds. We'll see how it turns out. Taking it one step at a time..