in the midst

by Matt MooneyNovember 27, 2013

I believe one of the hardest realities for me to grasp is this one:

To live fully within the moment that I occupy.

To me, that last sentence sounds a bit like a weak attempt at eloquence.  It is not.  I can’t seem to put a good one-liner to it; maybe I need to inquire of  some southern pastor who bellows better.  They seem to come up with zingers for a living.  Since I cannot seem to encapsulate it, I’ll explain it.

Over these last two years (read “since we adopted Lena & all sense of rhythm and balance hit the fan”), Ginny and I have bobbed in and out of worn out, worn down, lonely and flustered.  The move to three kiddos was one thing.  Navigating paperwork, doctors, schools, behaviors and therapy for Lena’s diagnosis was another.  Lena was 5 when we adopted her- turning 7 in a couple weeks now- though she requires vastly more care and attention than the other, younger rascals.

With our other kiddos, it took about 6 months to come out of the fog that sets in when another person shows up in your family;  with Lena, the fog took up residence in such a way whereby we just began to think that the fog was our life now.  And we thought that was perfectly okay.  There’s a beauty to fog and we were confident that we had been summonsed with no promise of clearer days ahead.

During this time of residence within chaos of fatigue and lack of time- time for self, time for God, time for marriage, time to go to the bathroom- I began to see a great gift that was offered us.  One that we tend to stray from naturally and one that the world offers the exact opposite.

When looking into our haggled eyes, the world offers a vacation, a break- something with a spa treatment and a daiquiri.  And believe you me, the world has a point.  I’ll grab these opportunities, as well as some drink with an umbrella in it, with both hands when offered.

But God has a better offer to those of us who will listen.  He offers us Himself in the midst of the fog.  Right there in the smack-dab center of crazy-ville.  Not a vacation away but a pressing into.  Nothing to wait for, something to call on.  Not a change of circumstance, but a change in us.

This is the key that unlocks thanksgiving.  No longer seeking an escape but seeking to see the beauty of the actual days we live within.

Because fog is kind of beautiful, once we stop wondering what lies beyond it.

7,502 Comments

  1. Ben Richards on November 28, 2013 at 4:37 pm

    I love this. Next time I ask how you are…I will ask for a blog post.



  2. Kate on December 3, 2013 at 8:12 am

    This is so good. I read it last week and thought, “Yes!”
    “This is the key that unlocks thanksgiving. No longer seeking an escape but seeking to see the beauty of the actual days we live within.” I need that hanging on a sign in front of my eyes all day long. In reading Tim Keller’s new book on suffering last night, I was realizing my hope in adoption was to love God and serve him- I imagined over flowing joy in getting to do something so near to God’s heart and how close I would become to him in my service. Ha- I’m guessing he giggled too. Our adoption has brought me closer than I imagined, but in a completely different way than I envisioned- it is through suffering that he has and continues to draw me close. The constant dependence on Him every day reveals so much beauty.



    • matt mooney on December 10, 2013 at 12:01 pm

      Thanks for sharing this, Kate….great truth.



I believe one of the hardest realities for me to grasp is this one:

To live fully within the moment that I occupy.

To me, that last sentence sounds a bit like a weak attempt at eloquence.  It is not.  I can’t seem to put a good one-liner to it; maybe I need to inquire of  some southern pastor who bellows better.  They seem to come up with zingers for a living.  Since I cannot seem to encapsulate it, I’ll explain it.

Over these last two years (read “since we adopted Lena & all sense of rhythm and balance hit the fan”), Ginny and I have bobbed in and out of worn out, worn down, lonely and flustered.  The move to three kiddos was one thing.  Navigating paperwork, doctors, schools, behaviors and therapy for Lena’s diagnosis was another.  Lena was 5 when we adopted her- turning 7 in a couple weeks now- though she requires vastly more care and attention than the other, younger rascals.

With our other kiddos, it took about 6 months to come out of the fog that sets in when another person shows up in your family;  with Lena, the fog took up residence in such a way whereby we just began to think that the fog was our life now.  And we thought that was perfectly okay.  There’s a beauty to fog and we were confident that we had been summonsed with no promise of clearer days ahead.

During this time of residence within chaos of fatigue and lack of time- time for self, time for God, time for marriage, time to go to the bathroom- I began to see a great gift that was offered us.  One that we tend to stray from naturally and one that the world offers the exact opposite.

When looking into our haggled eyes, the world offers a vacation, a break- something with a spa treatment and a daiquiri.  And believe you me, the world has a point.  I’ll grab these opportunities, as well as some drink with an umbrella in it, with both hands when offered.

But God has a better offer to those of us who will listen.  He offers us Himself in the midst of the fog.  Right there in the smack-dab center of crazy-ville.  Not a vacation away but a pressing into.  Nothing to wait for, something to call on.  Not a change of circumstance, but a change in us.

This is the key that unlocks thanksgiving.  No longer seeking an escape but seeking to see the beauty of the actual days we live within.

Because fog is kind of beautiful, once we stop wondering what lies beyond it.

7,502 Comments

  1. Ben Richards on November 28, 2013 at 4:37 pm

    I love this. Next time I ask how you are…I will ask for a blog post.



  2. Kate on December 3, 2013 at 8:12 am

    This is so good. I read it last week and thought, “Yes!”
    “This is the key that unlocks thanksgiving. No longer seeking an escape but seeking to see the beauty of the actual days we live within.” I need that hanging on a sign in front of my eyes all day long. In reading Tim Keller’s new book on suffering last night, I was realizing my hope in adoption was to love God and serve him- I imagined over flowing joy in getting to do something so near to God’s heart and how close I would become to him in my service. Ha- I’m guessing he giggled too. Our adoption has brought me closer than I imagined, but in a completely different way than I envisioned- it is through suffering that he has and continues to draw me close. The constant dependence on Him every day reveals so much beauty.



    • matt mooney on December 10, 2013 at 12:01 pm

      Thanks for sharing this, Kate….great truth.