Remember when I said I was terrified? I wasn’t kidding. I decided tonight that I wasn’t going to America’s Got Talent this year. But…
When I had my wreck, the actual impact itself only lasted about ten seconds. But what was more frightening than the impact itself was knowing that only moments before that, my life was good. Actually, it was going incredibly well. I’d gone through a bit of a depression, and I was finally finding my happy again. Then, just like that… That one quick moment, that tiny little hiccup in the momentum of my life, changed everything.
In one moment, one quick moment of my life, I found myself on my knees in an old, almost abandoned house. I went into the house as an orphan atheist, and came out a child of the living God. One moment in my life, and it changed my entire life.
In one quick moment, our house was engulfed in flames, and my entire life was in ashes and ruin. The room where the fire started was where my instruments were kept. My flute, my keyboard, my guitar, my cornet, my everything. But in that same moment where I lost everything, I gained everything, too. My guitar survived the fire. The rest is history.
In a fluke of a moment, my dad and my brother hit a large rock while out in our boat. They weren’t wearing life jackets. They were plunged so deeply into the water that they later said there was no way to tell if you were swimming up or down. Before that, they were along for the ride and enjoying life. In a moment, they were in the water fighting for life. And somehow, they made it. But that moment could have changed my life. I could’ve lost them both.
Today, I was cutting up and laughing with a friend over something relatively childish. Both of our lives were okay. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least. We were both about our business as usual. Just a moment later, she gets a call that her friend died.
The power of a moment, just a single moment, is so strong. Moments can make or break our own little worlds. They bring laughter and tears and frustration and pain and joy and downright agony. They bring the best of times and worst of times. Moments can leave us breathless and anxious for more, or they can leave us a broken mess. There are moments that create what we call the “good ol’ days” that we can’t stop talking about even years later, and how awesome that time was. There are also moments that leave us so bitter and in such horrible pain that we don’t know how we can survive.
The ink used to write our life stories comes from the moments that, for the good or the bad, leave us breathless. And as I think about going to Atlanta or not going to Atlanta, I’ve learned one thing in life, if nothing else: The ink from one moment can change an entire story. So, pursue those moments God has for you, and likewise don’t be afraid of them. Laugh when you can laugh, and cry when you need to cry. But ultimately, even if that moment rocked you to your core, there’s going to be more. And at the end, we’re all going to have some awesome, awesome stories to tell.
(Foot note: My worst fear is that I will go to Atlanta, fail miserably, and have to come home to tell everyone that I failed. But at the end of the day, this is just a television show. Seriously… it’s TV. It doesn’t mean a thing. So in that sense… I guess I have nothing to win or lose.)