“To each there comes in their lifetime a special moment when they are figuratively tapped on the shoulder and offered the chance to do a very special thing, unique to them and fitted to their talents. What a tragedy if that moment finds them unprepared or unqualified for that which could have been their finest hour.”
ACTS 5:1-16
JOURNAL
After sixteen days, eighteen states, thousands of miles, and some of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen, I find myself back home with a deeper appreciation for something surprisingly simple: today.
Over the past two weeks, I stood in places that seemed untouched by time. I looked across mountain ranges in Montana, walked through ancient landscapes carved over millions of years, explored national parks preserved for generations, and stood beneath the faces of Mount Rushmore, where history and human ambition are literally etched into stone. I drove through bustling cities, tiny farming towns, endless plains, rugged mountains, forests, rivers, and deserts. I encountered people from every walk of life, each carrying their own stories, dreams, struggles, and hopes.
The trip reminded me how vast this country is and how diverse the people within it are. It also reminded me how much history surrounds us. Some of it is measured in millions of years through mountains, rivers, and canyons. Some of it is measured in centuries through battlefields, monuments, and preserved landmarks. Yet as inspiring as all of it was, none of those places matter as much as the opportunity sitting in front of me right now.
The mountains were beautiful. The history was fascinating. The preserved landscapes were awe-inspiring. But I cannot live yesterday's adventures. I cannot create in yesterday's memories. Life is always found in the present moment.
That truth brings Winston Churchill's words into sharper focus: "To each there comes in their lifetime a special moment when they are figuratively tapped on the shoulder and offered the chance to do a very special thing, unique to them and fitted to their talents. What a tragedy if that moment finds them unprepared or unqualified for that which could have been their finest hour."
We often imagine that moment as some grand opportunity waiting somewhere in the future. But perhaps the tap on the shoulder comes every morning. Perhaps it is found in today's conversations, today's work, today's decisions, and today's opportunities to love.
Mordecai understood this. In Esther 2, he was not chasing significance. He was simply being faithful where he was. Sitting at the king's gate, he overheard a plot and reported it. The act seemed small and ordinary. There was no immediate reward. Yet God was weaving together a story far larger than Mordecai could see. His faithfulness in an ordinary moment became part of the deliverance of an entire people.
The same principle appears in Acts 5. The apostles were not building platforms or pursuing influence. They were living as conduits of God's Spirit. Their lives became vessels through which God's grace, power, and love flowed into the world around them. As people encountered them, they encountered something greater than themselves.
As I read these passages today, I am struck by how often God works through ordinary faithfulness. The moments that shape our lives are rarely the dramatic ones we imagine. More often, they are the quiet moments when we choose obedience, gratitude, service, and love.
Today, that realization feels especially meaningful because it is Father's Day.
There is no national park, monument, mountain range, or historic site that compares to the joy and responsibility of loving my children. The miles traveled and places visited will become memories, but the opportunity to invest in my sons, encourage them, guide them, and love them as they continue to grow as adult men remains one of the greatest callings of my life.
Father's Day also reminds me that fatherhood was never meant to be a solitary pursuit. As grateful as I am for my children, I am equally grateful for my wife, my friend, and my companion who has walked beside me through every season of life. Through successes and failures, celebrations and struggles, mountaintops and valleys, she has shared the journey. The memories of this trip are meaningful not simply because of the places we visited, but because we experienced them together.
Father's Day also causes me to look backward with gratitude. I have been blessed with an earthly father whose love, encouragement, and example have shaped me in countless ways. As I think about the man I have become, I can see his fingerprints throughout my life. Much of what is good in me was first nurtured by someone who loved me before I ever understood the gift he was giving.
The Spirit of God does not dwell in national parks, monuments, or distant horizons any more than He dwells in ordinary places. The same Spirit that formed mountains and carved valleys is present in my home, my marriage, my family, my friendships, my classroom, my coaching, and my daily work. We are not called merely to admire creation. We are called to participate in it by becoming conduits of God's love, grace, and life to the people around us.
Today is not a pause between meaningful moments. Today is the meaningful moment.
My finest hour will not be found in the places I visited. It will be found in how faithfully I respond to the opportunities God places before me today. Like Mordecai, I may not see how the small acts matter. Like the apostles, I may not fully understand the impact of a life surrendered to the Spirit. But I can choose to be present, available, and faithful.
Today I am grateful for the father who raised me...for the wife who has walked beside me...for the children I have been entrusted to love...and most of all I am grateful for my Heavenly Father, whose love made all of it possible.
