Living in the Moments of Our Lives

What can we do?

Several years after Ethan died, I was at a neighbor's gathering; as I was standing in a conversation, a man I did not recognize said to me,

"My wife reads your blogs (I blogged a lot when Ethan was alive and after he died), and it always makes her cry, so I told her to stop reading them." I was taken aback by his comments, thinking, "buddy – this is the stuff you keep to yourself."

This exchange came to mind last night when I watched the news about Ukraine. I've felt almost paralyzed by what is going on there. I was born with a very empathetic heart, a voice for the underdog, and an interest in the world. I take in a lot of what happens in the news and am always curious about it, ultimately searching for out-of-the-way stories and news reports beyond mainstream news. I'm most interested in the people and what they are experiencing.

My mama's heart feels for Russian mothers sending their young sons off to war. News reports say that these young soldiers are not allowed to contact their families. My heart cannot bear the separation of Ukrainian families, mothers taking their children to bomb shelters, and the killing of innocent people. I saw a video of orphans fleeing on foot. My heart swells in awe of the Ukrainian People who are not giving up. I wonder – would I do the same?

Last week I heard someone say they will not pay much attention to Ukraine unless it affects us. I contrasted that with my almost unhealthy news monitoring, and I wondered…how are we to carry one another's burdens? It is so much easier to look away. And yet, we do have to protect ourselves on some level so we can get through our days and do what we are charged with doing – our work, caring for our children, and all the daily tasks we all must tend.

One night I watched Anderson Cooper interview a Ukrainian woman. I sensed his deep emotion as he spoke to this woman, almost as if he didn't want the conversation to end. She was in a bomb shelter with three small children. Her husband is with the resistance.

When he asked her how she was doing, two things struck me.

First, she said, "I thought the world would come to save us." She went on to say something about that idea coming from Hollywood, perhaps. She did not think the world would sit idly by and watch these kinds of atrocities that have been committed so many times by the Russian Regime. She then continued on to say that she realized that this is their battle to fight…their war to wage. She acknowledged the help the world has given but then returned to a firm voice, saying they will fight and win.

Secondly, Anderson asked her how she is doing, how is her family doing. She answered, "fine." "They are doing okay." I sensed she was talking about the present moment. Not the big picture, she was certainly terrified about that. The moment she was in was okay, and she would keep her focus there.

Her responses made me recall some really tough times in my life. Oddly, in those moments, I did feel fine. If someone asked me, I likely answered the same. I believe we have this incredible human spirit that rises to the occasion and allows us to face circumstances we never thought we could, with a supernatural assuredness. As I listened to her, it was clear she had been given grace for the moment and at the same time was terrified. Both can be true. I wished I could reach through the TV and bring her and her children to safety.

Lately, I've been thinking about the gift of the present moment and owning our stories. Last week it was 50 balmy degrees. A heatwave for us in IL, so I took Bodey to the swingset in the backyard after school. I hoisted him up as far as I could lift his 60 pounds, so he could slide half way down the slide. My afternoons with him are full, physically challenging, and honestly, frustrating, many days. But yesterday, I just lived in the moment. Just the micro-moment I was in. I did not wish someone to come to take him from me so I could have a break. I did not think about the lifting I had just done or that my hip was twingy. I just relished in the moment. I focused on his laugh, his smile, the not-so-cool breeze, and the sun peeking through the clouds. And without thinking about it, I lifted him again to the slide. And down he went. I had the grace to lift, carry and love without judging my circumstance or worry for the future. I lived in the moment of my calling.

I'm not sure why the Ukrainian People are being called to this moment in history. I am heartbroken with all I see and read; barely able to believe it has gone this far.

I'm not sure why you are being called to your moment, but we are all called.

And I believe we get special grace for the callings on our lives. I've felt it so many times in mine. And we get to decide how our story will go. We get to choose our contribution. We can choose to live in the moments of our lives. If we get too far ahead, we feel anxious; if we focus on the past, we can feel sadness or regret.

We are here today.

The older I get, the fewer answers I have, but here's what I'm doing this week. First, I'm focusing on the present moment, just like the Ukrainian mother reminded me. I'm not getting too far ahead of myself. In the present moment, it is well. Secondly, I'm praying for grace for the people in this war-torn country who are called to this moment. Remembering the grace I've been given during hard times, I believe this supernatural grace is being showered upon them. I’m also asking what I can do to help.

More than anything, I pray for peace. Peace in this world and peace in our hearts.

I'd love to know the organizations you are donating to support Ukraine.

Will you drop me a note and let me know?

May we all recommit to gratitude and courage for our callings in the present moment.