Eighteen inches. . .the distance between your brain and your heart. The distance between a mother’s face and her nursing infant, the distance an infant’s eyes focus. A unit of measurement, a foot and a half, the depth of a beach bucket, 1/2 yard of fabric.The ever-widening gap between what I know and what I have experienced.
A moment in Time is exactly that: a moment. And let’s face it-a moment isn’t very long. Wistfully we watch the moment flee from us- forever lost to Time itself, leaving us wishing we could grasp it, capture it, hold on to it forever. You wish you could turn back Time or hit the “pause” button. You wish the moment was more than a fleeting memory or an image on your scan card, computer or television screen.
What if the possibility to turn back time, to hit the pause button, to somehow capture the moments actually existed? What if there is a way to make Time stand still? How is that even possible?
Perhaps it isn’t a “head” issue. Perhaps it’s a “heart” issue. Perhaps it’s our hearts that prevent us from capturing Time. Perhaps it’s my “heart-ittude” rather than my attitude. Perhaps the 18-inch gap is grounded in my perspective or the lack thereof. Perhaps it’s the rapid speed at which we race through the moments. After all, doesn’t your attitude determine your altitude? Isn’t beauty in the eye of the beholder? Whatever happened to taking the scenic route?
In January 2013, I was catapulted onto an arduous, narrow 18-inch long pathway. If one is catapulted, the chances you’ll land gently are nonexistent. I had two choices: either begin inching along or throw a fit. I’m still on that journey. I can’t say that I always choose to inch along. Yet, in those moments when I choose inching over a tantrum, I discover a way to make Time stand still and to my amazement, I’m no longer inching . . . I’m soaring!
Eighteen inches. . . A journey of one thousand gifts. . . a journey of inching 18 inches. . . a journey of learning the power of a moment. . . a journey of becoming an enchanted beholder who beholds the Beauty of the One who holds . . . . Are you ready for an eighteen-inch adventure of a lifetime?
I’m humbled you’ll consider inching along with me. . . Eighteen inches.