I Wish My Name was Yoder

"What!?"......yep. Yoder. Amish people are named Yoder--some of them, anyway.

I was talking with a friend the other day about how we are both trying to be more "in the moment". And I was pondering that conversation tonight driving home from a meeting. And then I heard this goofy commercial on the radio about a "Yoder auction" service. And I thought to myself......"Yoder......hmmm...amish....the amish seem to know how to live in the moment!" (just to give you a glimpse into the inner workings of my mind) And if the Amish people named Yoder know how to live in the moment, then I want to be a Yoder (just to close the circle on my thinking in case you weren't quite sure...).

So as a Yoder, I'm good at being in the moment during moments I want to be in. Like laying next to my boys tonight snuggling them before bed--in the dark, listening to their breathing, feeling the rise and fall of their chests under my arm draped over them, pondering how big their bodies are getting and how small they used to be, wondering when the last time ever will be that they say, "Mama, will you snuggle me?"

I can handle being in the moment during times like that.

Sometimes I think when we think about being "in the moment," we think only of the good moments--using the saying as a reminder to slow down, take it all in, not to miss anything.

But what about the moments we don't want to be in? Would we say to someone else in moments like those "Just be in the moment"??? We know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. But none of us want those we love to have to be in the moment of suffering--emotional or otherwise. Neither do I want to be in those moments.

Do I? Should I try to be a Yoder in those times, too? Because when I think about the times that I'm not good in the moment, the times that I'm waiting to get onto the next "good" time, all I'm really doing is wanting to get out of the moment. To avoid an uncomfortable confrontation. To stop squirming with awkwardness and helplessness at the expression of someone's grief--a suffering I cannot remove. To make some excitement for an otherwise mundane and ordinary day. To pass a time of loneliness in expectation of that next intimate connection with someone.

Now that I type about it, I think maybe I am a Yoder in those moments, too. I mean, if I wasn't, would I even be aware that I was wanting out? Probably not.

Maybe I'm more in the moment than I think, and it's just that I don't necessarily like every moment that comes my way.

Thanks for being a Yoder--for being in my moment here.