Make The Tiny Moments of Your Life Add Up to Something

When I woke up this morning, my five-year-old was already hovering at the side of my bed, waiting for my eyes to open. He held out an envelope and a pen, all ready for me to write out his friend’s address.

Right now. Before the sun comes up, please.

And where do we keep the stamps, Mom?

Once my feet hit the floor, there were kids to wake and breakfasts to dish out, laundry to start and green smoothies to make.

Photo Credit:
Theresa Martell, Creative Commons

When I get to my computer, I’ll find more email than I’d like to think about and a project that I’d really like to finish up today.

We need to head to the library and the grocery store, too, and wouldn’t it be nice to stop at the duck pond? Maybe on the way home. Before that we’ll need to find jackets and shoes and—oh, my mom is phoning me. Hang on.

If your days are anything like mine, they’re full of details.

You’re meeting needs, you’re answering questions, and all these things need attention in this moment right now.

But we are about more than just the “now.”

My days could lead me to believe that this moment is one in a collection of moments just like it. They’ll keep coming, one after another, and they won’t really add up to anything.

But I don’t believe that.

I think this moment is one point on a longer journey, a journey that has purpose and direction. I think my life is telling a bigger story, even if I can only see one little chapter from here.

It’s easy to get lost in the details.

Every day, I can choose to focus on what’s right in front of me. I can look at the next moment, I can meet the next need, I can do the next right thing, and these are all important. They are not without meaning.

But if I always keep my eyes down on those details, I won’t be able to see where I’m headed.

Here’s how I remind myself to look at the bigger picture.

I pick up a book. Reading status updates and tweets and news and lists—those all keep my focus on this moment in time. When I pick up a book, I tell myself a different story. A book has a beginning, a middle, and an end, and reading reminds me that my story does, too.
I find companions for the journey. I look for friends who want to talk through these ideas. I need people who can offer me their perspective, who can remind me of what’s true, who can point me in the direction of the horizon.
I set aside time to think, away from all my important daily tasks. I have a few minutes set aside each day, a longer stretch once a week, and every once in a while, I put everything else down to replenish and refocus.

That’s why I’m going to Storyline Conference this year.

I’m looking forward to having the space to think about where I’ve been and where I’m going. I’m excited to be in a room full of people thinking and dreaming and planning about those same things.

When I think about how full my days are, it seems like I don’t have the margin to step away. It feels like I should just press on, just keep doing what needs doing.

But that’s why I need to go.

I need to remember why those details matter. I need to talk about what they’re adding up to. I need to be inspired to live a story that doesn’t stall in the middle.

Plus I hear Chicago has seasons, which we don’t have here in San Diego. I’m excited about that, too.

I can’t wait for November.

Maybe I’ll see you there?