Just a moment . . .

and the temptation to look ahead.

At 3:30 AM, my alarm went off. Believe it or not, I set the alarm. No mistake.

I do not like getting up early. When my travel agent sets my schedule for events, she knows that if I can avoid it, any wake-up earlier than 5 AM has me searching for alternatives. Oh, I’ll do it. But it ain’t my thing.

But this 3:30 AM alarm was different. Because on this day, Jenn and I would be taking our son—a rising senior in high school—to the airport. He and a dozen or so classmates were headed to a student exchange experience . . . in Japan.

Like, 14 hours ahead of us. As in, not “Halfway around the world” but “Almost whole way around the world.”

About a week ago, he was two years old, climbing up on our kitchen counter and swallowing cinnamon (which was a mistake—but he lived).

Today he is in Japan, staying with a family I’ve never met, climbing halfway up Mt. Fuji, wandering through Tokyo. Stuff I’ve never done. Perhaps never will.

I’ve done this parenting thing a while. We have five, ages 35 to 15. This guy is number four. He’s choosing possible college destinations, discussing the world’s greatest issues with me, and now traveling the world. He’s smarter than me, like all of our kids.

If you look closely at the photo up top, you’ll see two very different outlooks as we traverse the Nashville International Airport’s parking garage on the way to meet his traveling group for the flight.

On the left is my son with his head held high, looking ahead to a bright future and a new adventure. On the right, me. A dad trying to be strong, yet anxious and thinking, “What am I doing, sending my kid across the world?”

The photo below is from Christmas 2010. The Opryland Hotel had reopened after the Nashville Flood in May of that year, and we were keeping the family tradition of wandering through the hotel to see the Christmas decorations. He was two. Yesterday.

Just proof that time most certainly flies.

But as I think about life, I’m reminded that it’s easy to look at the next thing, the next project, the next goal. Right now, Jenn and I are wrapping up one project and thinking about another.

It’s the same with children, as any of us can get caught up in getting a child to the next practice, the next recital, the next game, the next youth function, the next . . .

The temptation we all face, in faith, family, friendships, deep relationships . . . is to look past the person in front of us and the present moment because we are so focused on “what’s next.”

I do it all the time.

Capturing the moment before it slips away

Walking through the airport with my son, I was struck by the idea that this is the moment. He would get on a plane soon and there would only be texts, photos and perhaps a brief phone call. No more big moments for almost two weeks.

So this week, with one son in Japan, Jenn and I—and our fifteen year old son—are off on a quick trip. I’ll speak at an event, which is a moment in itself. Then, some down time. Sightseeing. Time with my sister and her husband.

Time to relax. Time to talk. No emails (or not many, anyway). No work. But moments.

The Master of moments

As I think about faith, I remember that Jesus found a way to turn mission-minded tasks into memorable moments. With a Samaritan Woman. With a leper. A tax collector. Two sisters who had lost their brother.

Without a smart phone, Jesus had no time to take videos and photos so he could go back and scroll through his highlights. He had to capture the moment and hold it tight.

And perhaps, this was one of Jesus’ greatest superpowers—the ability to always see the person in front of him and stay in the moment. Sure, at times Jesus had to look to the future. But never at the expense of moments.

Maybe, in today’s busy world dominated by devices and floods of information, we must be more diligent than ever at sitting with, connecting with and engaging the person in front of us. These are the moments we must capture.

Because before we know it, yesterday’s two-year-old is all grown up and flying across the world.