Savoring Life
Usually we connect savoring with taste or perhaps smell. But in reality, we also savor with our eyes and ears and touch, drinking in breathtaking beauty or soul-stirring devastation. Savoring is an ability to be present to and enjoy something, be it food or an experience, slowing down to fully allow the senses to communicate to the spirit. Savor is the opposite of gulp-and-guzzle, of grab-and-go. Savor never skims or glances but comes to rest and settles in to appreciate a small beauty, a delicate bloom, a baby’s smile, the skeleton veins of an autumn leaf, and revels in the multi-faceted wonders of life.
I recently had a half-day to myself and chose to go to the quaint shops of a nearby small town to leisurely stroll through their independent bookstore and art galleries. I then made my way to the corner coffee shop and found it crowded with folks drinking their favorite brew and sharing conversations about work, relationships, the unusual sunny weather, and a host of other topics.
A young woman arrived asking the barista for the lid to a coffee cup. She took it outside and poured water into it as she bent down to let her tired, old dog drink from it as she stroked his head. A mom with twin babies in fuzzy pink pajamas pushed her stroller inside. The babies, rosy-cheeked with pacifiers in their mouths, looked around, kicking their legs with delight. It felt like one of those bless-the-beast-and-the-children kind of days, a gift from above and I wondered if anyone else in the coffee shop sensed it too – the glory of God in the energy of life buzzing all around me and I relished being the vessel holding that glory and deeply savoring the moment.
As I drank down the last of my frothy vanilla latte, this moment made me glad and grateful to be alive at this place and time. I began to pack up my things when an elderly couple shuffled through the doorway looking around for an empty spot to sit. I motioned to them and said, “Here, I’m leaving. You can have my table.” They thanked me and the gentleman took my empty cup and said, “I’ll take care of that for you. We’re helping each other.” And I felt a surge of emotion over the gentleness of that simple gesture and the kindness of his simple words.
The question I’m sitting with now is this: If I can savor those moments of beauty, or tenderness, or satisfaction, can I also learn to savor the challenges that come, as Jesus savored the passion that led to his ultimate sacrifice? I’ve always believed that the “abundant life” that Jesus promised isn’t only about fully savoring the tasty parts of life like I did on my daytrip. The abundant life welcomes it all with open arms—the easy-breezy days, and the bottom-of-the-barrel days—because it offers us abundant grace, abundant truth, abundant courage, and abundant Divine comfort.
I’m still practicing and learning to rest in those moments of glory where it seems like I’m living in that “thin place,” where heaven and earth co-mingle. There I welcome and entertain both the richness found in the bare-beauty surrounding me or in a heartbreaking hurt that opens me to a deeper invitation to savor and rest in the grace, courage, and comfort of the Divine within me.
For your Contemplation: What has felt like abundance in your own life recently—that place where you stop and just take in the moment and appreciate it for what it is? Stop now and look around at your environment, at the ground beneath your feet. What do you notice? How can it stir up gratitude for the Divine generosity given to this day? What would it take to learn to savor the challenges that come to you during the day?
