We have all, at some point, felt that moment of time suspended, of happiness, of stillness, of love, of God’s presence, where time does not seem to matter — and yet, the moment ends and the hours move on. We cannot resist time. I have tried, and failed. I have stood out in the cool dark of summer night and watched the drifting glow of fireflies, like constellations, rearrange a thousand times across the shadowed fields, endless patterns, never the same twice no matter how much time seemed to slow and more patterns emerged — and still the morning came. We cannot keep such moments except in our hearts.