The Life Between the Big Moments

We spend so much of our lives waiting for something.

The birthday.

The vacation.

The wedding.

The promotion.

The new house.

The graduation.

The retirement.

The book release.

The moment when something we’ve prayed for finally happens.

We mark those days on calendars.

Count down to them.

Take pictures of them.

Post them.

Celebrate them.

And we should.

But I’ve been thinking about all the days that never make the photo album.

The ordinary ones.

The Tuesday when nothing happened.

The Saturday morning when you stayed in your pajamas too long.

The drive home from work.

The cup of coffee you drank while the house was still quiet.

The phone call with someone you love about absolutely nothing important.

The meal you’ve made so many times you don’t even need the recipe anymore.

The evening when everybody was home…

and nobody realized how precious that was.

Those days don’t usually feel significant while we’re living them.

But maybe they are where most of our lives actually happen.

We remember milestones because they stand out.

But life is mostly made of the space between them.

Think about childhood.

You probably remember Christmas mornings and birthdays.

But some of the memories that make you smile weren’t special occasions at all.

They were sitting on somebody’s porch.

Riding in the car.

Playing outside until the streetlights came on.

The smell of somebody’s kitchen.

A grandmother calling your name.

A song playing on the radio.

Something funny your family still talks about decades later.

Nobody announced:

“This is going to become one of your favorite memories.”

It just happened.

That’s the strange thing about memories.

We rarely know we’re making one.

And maybe that’s why ordinary days deserve more attention.

We have become very good at documenting special moments.

But sometimes we’re so busy waiting for something worth documenting that we overlook the life happening right in front of us.

We say:

Nothing happened today.

But is that true?

You woke up.

Someone you love was still here.

You laughed.

You ate something good.

You heard a song you hadn’t heard in years.

The sun came through the window differently.

Someone texted just to check on you.

You drove home safely.

You climbed into your own bed.

Nothing extraordinary happened.

And maybe…

that was the blessing.

Not every good day has to be exciting.

Some good days are simply uneventful.

No emergency.

No bad phone call.

No crisis.

No argument.

No unexpected expense.

No news that changes everything.

Just…

Tuesday.

There was a time when I might have called that boring.

Now I think I might call it peace.

Because life eventually teaches you that excitement isn’t always good news.

Sometimes the phone rings and you wish it hadn’t.

Sometimes a doctor’s appointment changes the calendar.

Sometimes someone leaves home and doesn’t come back.

Sometimes life divides itself into before and after in a matter of minutes.

And after you’ve lived long enough to understand that, an ordinary day begins looking a little different.

Maybe we should stop rushing through them.

We’re always trying to get somewhere.

Friday.

Vacation.

The next season.

The next accomplishment.

The next chapter.

But if we’re not careful, we can spend Monday through Thursday wishing our lives away so we can enjoy Friday.

Then spend the year waiting for vacation.

Then spend decades waiting for retirement.

And suddenly we’ve spent most of our lives waiting for the small portion we gave ourselves permission to enjoy.

What if we didn’t do that?

What if Wednesday got to matter too?

What if the grocery-store run counted?

What if dinner at the kitchen table counted?

What if sitting on the porch counted?

What if doing absolutely nothing productive for an hour counted?

What if we stopped treating ordinary life like the commercial break between important scenes?

Because one day, some of these ordinary things will become extraordinary.

One day you may miss the sound of someone’s key turning in the door.

You may miss the shoes they always left in the wrong place.

You may miss hearing your children argue in the next room.

You may miss calling your mother just to ask a question you already knew the answer to.

You may miss the commute you complain about today.

You may even miss the version of yourself who was tired, busy and convinced nothing interesting was happening.

That’s why I don’t think gratitude is only about being thankful for the big blessings.

Sometimes gratitude is recognizing something before absence teaches you its value.

That’s harder.

So pay attention.

Drink the coffee while it’s hot.

Sit outside a little longer.

Take the picture even though nobody is dressed up.

Call the person.

Use the good dishes.

Play the music.

Laugh loudly.

Watch the sunset even though you’ve seen hundreds of them.

And when everyone you love happens to be under the same roof…

notice.

Don’t wait for life to become extraordinary before you decide it’s beautiful.

Because maybe the extraordinary life isn’t made from extraordinary days.

Maybe it’s made from thousands of ordinary ones that we were awake enough to appreciate.

The big moments will come.

Celebrate them when they do.

Take the pictures.

Buy the cake.

Wear the outfit.

Make the announcement.

But don’t forget about everything happening between them.

Because when you look back over your life someday, you may discover that the moments you would give anything to experience one more time…

weren’t the big ones at all.

They were the ones you almost didn’t notice.

The ordinary days.

And perhaps the greatest gift we can give ourselves is learning to recognize them…

while they’re still ours. 💛