“With all its sham, drudgery and broken
dreams; it is still a beautiful world.”
November 26, 2003
On the way back from the farm Sunday night, I experienced one of life’s perfect moments.
I came over a small hill and started up the highest hill on the gravel road I travel between the farm and my place. I glanced up to the top of the hill, and then I saw it.
A large buck stood in the middle of the road at the crest of the hill, sharply silhouetted against the last peach glow of the setting sun. It was as though he realized it was sunset of the last day of hunting season and he had survived another year. For a moment, he was king of the world, and glorying in it.
It was a perfect moment. And I was privileged to witness it.
I slowed the car to a crawl, barely able to breathe at the perfection, wanting to get closer, knowing he would bolt if I stopped the car and opened the door. And, after an endless moment, he did, bounding across the road and through a field with enviable freedom.
I crested the hill and saw a pickup that had been parked on the other side just beginning to drive away. I couldn’t help but hope somebody else had been witness to this perfect moment as well.
Last summer Dad had a perfect moment of his own. He was relaxing on the deck with the dog when a deer came right into the yard and settled under an evergreen just yards away for a rest. Dad kept the dog quiet, and the two of them watched as it caught its breath, then got up and took off again. Dad said he felt honored that the deer apparently felt the farm was a safe haven.
I have a theory about perfect moments. I believe they are little gifts from God, small reminders that, no matter how bad things are going, life is still beautiful. I believe God gives them to all of us—but it is up to us to recognize them as such. The next time you encounter a perfect moment… Take time to savor it; let it sink into your soul, brighten your world a tiny bit. That’s what it’s supposed to do.