How often do we find ourselves pushing moments into one another, rushing, speeding, striving to get to the next, better, important moment later on? How often do we pause and try to describe a moment as it happens, try to feel it, drink it in and savor it, like one savors a bite of something delicious?
A writer's job is to describe, to put the reader into the moment, so the reader can truly feel and try to experience what the writer is attempting to convey. I suppose I would consider myself as a writer, but one that is still learning the craft. But I will try.
Do you ever have a moment that seems to hold significance, but you're not sure why? You try to understand it, to feel it, and to describe it so you can remember it forever, but it eludes the words you try to use. It seems you are on the edge of inspiration, of understanding something truly profound, but it sits on the tip of your brain, on the edge of description.
I was driving, and I was blown away by a feeling I still can't quite grasp. I can describe the fireflies I saw across the road, appearing like tiny sparks of fire, extinguished in moments. I could describe the deep scent of the earth that has just been tilled and wind mixing together through my window, a promise of rain in the air. My words can try to paint a picture of the last rays of a summer sunset, the purple and pink mixing in with the deep navy that creeps in to slowly envelop all other colors. The feel of the wind moving my hair about, its sound competing with the song on the radio.
Yet I can't describe the wistful feeling that all of these things brought me, the wildness that seemed to well up in me as I smelled the earth and wind, or the bittersweet feeling I got as the sun set on another day. I can't truly describe what happened, or how I felt, and why it drove me to cry out to God.
But I will try.
For these moments must be savored; described with our inexperienced writings and our insufficient words.
Because if we ignore them, these moments will be lost, and we will miss the brief communion with God that they bring.
Hanna Elizabeth
