a journey’s onset
embarking on memories
seizing moments now

As we embarked on the cruise portion of our trip yesterday, I did what I always do from distant places. I looked to the sky and determined location based on the sun’s position and knowledge of landmarks on the map. Turning my head to the southeast and south/southeast skies of my children and family members in South Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, and Nevada, I found a bird over the skies of Puget Sound and imagined her spreading her wings, flying toward home to check on things there. I looked in the direction of my loved ones and checked to be sure there were no asteroids headed toward Earth so I could rest assured that my people were all safe before we set sail. And then I took in the exquisite views of Seattle from the deck of a ship.
In the near distance, we admired the Seattle skyline with the 1962 Space Needle pointing to the Heavens to remind us of the infinite power just beyond our own realm, re-tracing the steps of our ride to the top and the majestic views from behind glass the thickness of my entire hand. In the farther distance, we beheld Mt. Rainier, its breathtaking snow-capped beauty. My husband looked up the distance on the map: 70 miles away from us. I thought of how many people in the 100-degree Georgia heat who’d received the same Atlanta Braves baseball game heat advisory text yesterday, who’d love to be pillowed down in all that snow right about then – and how many from snowy mountaintops would be thrilled to be in the warmth of the stadium. And I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for being able to enjoy the beauty, have the time to experience moments and create memories that bring smiles and joy – and God’s hand to keep us safe and sound.
And I preached my travel sermon to myself and danced every second-guess thought step that always goes into the reality of a vacation, always ending in this conclusion: there is no value package for memories, for taking pictures along the way, for sharing experiences that take us along new paths of discovery. I remind myself that I don’t want to face each day waiting to live, waiting for another day to take a trip, to feel the snow, to wear the shimmery silver shoes, to taste the snow, to fly in the helicopter to a glacier to go dog sledding and taste the snow and share a kiss and laugh and smile and taste the snow and feel such joy that my soul bursts wide open.
That’s all it takes for me to rest in the embrace of these moments, to resolve to savor every second – – to realize that while we can make deposits and withdrawals from bank accounts, one thing none of us can ever deposit is more time to taste the snow.
The time to live is now.
Wherever you are today, do something simple or elaborate to seize the day and taste the snow!



