Glimmers Under the Sun
Learning to spot a little Heaven every day
Heavy hevel moments
For most of my life I’ve had what I now call hevel moments.
These are moments when everything has seemed pointless, hopeless, or just downright meaningless.
I’ve always been an emotional human, even as a kid. From navigating my parents' divorce, to our fight for fertility in adulthood, to simply feeling crushed by the everyday responsibilities of life, I‘ve become well acquainted with my own melancholic tendencies.
I’ve started thinking of these as hevel moments as I’ve connected with the Biblical book of Ecclesiastes. “Meaningless, Meaningless Says the Teacher.” This word for meaningless or vanity or vapor is hevel.
The book of Ecclesiastes feels much more pessimistic than the rest of scripture. It basically dismantles all the things that humans typically focus on. It illustrates the absurdity in relying on the things we fight so hard for. Power. Pleasure. Prosperity. All of these deemed worthless when considering the world as it is here "under the sun.” We might as well be trying to chase the wind or catch smoke. It’s all going to be in vain.
But we miss the point of Ecclesiastes if we only focus on the hevel here under the sun. Because Ecclesiastes isn’t really about the darkness. It’s about the light that shines through it.
A new kind of moment
I recently learned the term glimmers coined by the clinician Deb Dana.
Glimmers are micro-moments of regulation that foster feelings of well-being. A glimmer could be as simple as seeing a friendly face, hearing a soothing sound, or noticing something in the environment that brings a smile. They are personal to each of us and one person’s glimmer may be another person’s trigger. Glimmers are a cue in the day, either internal or external, that sparks a sense of wellbeing.
Glimmers routinely appear in everyday life, yet frequently go unnoticed. They are easily overlooked because, to help you survive, the human brain is wired to pay more attention to negative events than positive ones.
Several times throughout Ecclesiastes, Qoheleth (the narrator) breaks through the pessimism with just a touch of optimism. One of my Bible professors in college described it as if Qoheleth is pulling back a curtain to let a little light shine in the darkness.
12 I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. 13 That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. Ecclesiastes 3:12-13
The response to hevel and those heavy feelings of meaningless isn’t despair or apathy. For Qoheleth, it’s enjoying the little rays of sunlight we can experience even while we are here under the sun.
Be happy.
Do good.
Eat.
Drink.
Find satisfaction in your work.
This is the gift of God.
Glimmers from beyond the sun
glim·mer
a faint, wavering light or a tiny, fleeting sign of something, such as hope or understanding
In Dana’s work on glimmers, noticing the expected and unexpected small gifts in your own life helps you begin to notice even more of the good, too. Instead of constantly searching for dangers like our hunter-gatherer ancestors did, we can be on the lookout for beauty and joy.
For someone who has lived their life experiencing and expecting hevel moments, noticing these glimpses of good in my own life doesn’t come easy. But I don’t want to focus so much on the hevel that I miss the glimmers of God’s goodness shining in my every day.
These glimmers are Isaac’s chuckles as he tells a corny joke.
Ian’s little hand finding mine in a crowd.
Meg’s mischievous glance across the room when someone says something we find funny.
Sitting around a table with people I love.
A morning walk or reading a good book.
Finding joy in the work I get to do.
Finding purpose in loving and serving the people God has placed in my life.
These are the moments when God pulls back the curtain, just a little, and lets me see a little glimmer of heaven on earth.