I’ve spent 16 months of my life traveling from place to place, culture to culture, and people to people. I recognize that I have lived a lifetime of adventure, more than some people, and then a little more. I’ve seen and tasted and smelled things that are too delicious to describe and experienced things too potent to forget. And it’s culminating to this point now, a few days before I land on American soil, having just left my last ministry with Z squad called Village of Hope.
This was my second time.. nay, my second honor to be at the Village of Hope. It’s a rehab center for drug addicts and alcoholics; most have seen prison for a number of years. They learn about the redemption of Jesus in the early morning and work the rest of the day until dinner. One has seen the inside of a prison for half of his 84 years of life. They do hard physical labor 6 days out of the week, from wood chopping to pallet making to land clearing. They’re burly men, some scarred and most tattooed. They come from difficult backgrounds of fighting, drugs, alcohol, theft, etc. They also love Jesus and cry and hug and share their feelings. Hallelujah, the saving power of Jesus Christ!
I woke up at 7:30 Monday morning to the sun in my eyes; its rays had been dancing through the treetops for over 3 hours already. My sleeping pad rustled and crackled as I shrugged out of my sleeping bag liner and out from under my sleeping bag. It was slightly earlier than when I usually wake up but I had somewhere to be that morning. It was time to say goodbye. We’d been there five days and ended our time of privilege by the men praying over us.
Drug addicts.
Alcoholics.
Thieves.
Jesus lovers.
I’m not a novice to goodbyes. I flit in and out of people’s lives on a weekly basis and have done so for the past 5 months. It’s not the most ideal but it’s in the job description. This time was different. As I walked back to the house I was disappointed that I hadn’t thought to take a picture of that beautiful time. I sat down at the kitchen table only to realize that I had my phone in my pocket the whole time. Bummer. But was it really? I felt like the Lord was speaking something to me in that instant. He reminded me of a line I love from ‘The Secret Life of Walter Mitty’ – Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.
In a world and culture and generation that seeks to capture and publicize every moment, it’s an oddity to just sit and let the moment overwhelm you. With the instantaneous ease of smart phones to capture and record events, life should never be without a picture or video to revisit. I mean, that’s right thinking isn’t it?
That time was a moment for me. And I believe it was meant to live in the organic places of my life, not the digital places. If pictures are worth a thousand words, memories of the heart are invaluable. I want to capture and bottle those moments to place in the recesses of my heart.
One of my biggest regrets is that I let myself flit in and out of these significant moments without a second thought. I embraced the easier way, the avenue of a lens, the down time for myself when I chose not to invest, the silly times with teammates that made me laugh, and in turn let go of these rare life-changing moments. I didn’t revel in them or cherish them while they were happening because I thought a picture or a video a year later would do them justice. They don’t.
I wonder which moments I missed out on in attempts to capture them through a venue that would never do them justice. Or just how many times I missed out because of my lack of attention. Even at 25, I’m discovering just how fast life unwinds. I want the vision to see these times. I want the audacity to let go of comforts and personal wants to discover them. I want to let the Lord use them to shape me, mold me, break me down and build me back up.
Beautiful things don’t ask for attention but when they have it, you’ll never be the same.
Will you seek to find them?
