First, there's chronos, which refers to linear time: the quantified units of seconds, minutes, hours, etc..., in which we measure and live out our daily lives.
Then there's kairos, which refers to something quite different. Kairos is not about quantity but about quality. It refers to opportunities or moments in time which seem to present themselves and of which we ought to take advantage.
When you look at your daily calendar to see what you've planned, you're thinking about chronos. When you look at old photo albums to remember milestones or significant dates in your life, you're thinking about kairos.
This morning, my family and I experienced kairos.
First, some background: My son has been diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, and one of the many sensory issues with which he struggles is his utter fear of snow. He hates it. Hates feeling its coldness, hates getting it on his clothes. Hates snow. He'll walk on it only if we make him, and only in snow boots, but he will not play in it. Ever. And we live in West Michigan.
Second, we got a significant amount of snow overnight. (We live in West Michigan.) My wife and I had a ten o'clock appointment this morning, but due to the condition of the roads, the appointment was cancelled.
Now, I was already preparing to go outside and shovel the driveway, but my wife decided she wanted to turn this morning into an adventure. She said, "Let's all go outside and build a snowman." (Remember: My son hates snow.)
The next several minutes of chronos time witnessed Cyrus in total tantrum-mode as we struggled to help him put on his snow pants, winter coat, hat, gloves, and boots. We assured Cyrus that he could merely stand in the garage and watch as mommy builds a snow man and daddy shovels the driveway. He assured us that he was not going to let us win. But Cherith wisely fought this battle.
We got Cyrus out into the garage. Cherith started building the snowman. I started shoveling the snow. Occasionally we would throw snow at each other jokingly. (At least, I think it was jokingly...) Slowly but surely, possibly encouraged by the fun he saw his mommy and daddy have, Cyrus began walking out to the driveway. He walked over to the snowman and insisted that he help mommy put on the finishing touches. 
That was just the beginning. Next, he offered to help clean off daddy's car. He brushed all around the car, and even though some snow occasionally flew in his face or fell on his head, he pressed on undeterred by any discomfort he might have felt. And then, just to show what a bad-ass he really is, he made snowballs and thew them at mommy, daddy, the snowman, and the big tree in our side yard that we lovingly named Treebeard (after the character from Lord of the Rings). Long after I had finished shoveling and was ready to go inside, Cyrus wanted to stay outside and play in the snow.
Just to be clear, this was not our first venture along these lines. Cherith and I routinely try to get Cyrus out of his comfort zone, and we've made previous attempts to acclimate him to the fun of snow play. It never worked. If it had been snowy a week ago and we had tried then, I don't think it would have worked.
But for some reason, this time was different. It was the right time. For most kids, this would be no big deal. For my son, it was kairos.
Have you ever experienced those moments? I mean those events when you knew, in the moment, that eternity was entering into time and offering you a unique gift? And I don't necessarily mean something huge, like the birth of a child or a spiritual conversion. Those huge events are unmistakeable and obviously life-changing.
However, I tend to think that life offers us many more kairos moments than we realize, and we don't realize them precisely because they're not huge and obvious. They happen in the ordinary mess of everyday life, in the very mundane and predictable choices that we sometimes face.
We miss those events because we are a culture wired by chronos time. Chronos time is orderly, predictable, and much more within our control...and oh, how we love to be in control.
Only if we relinquish some of that control will we have the eyes to see kairos time, which is much more random, much less predictable, but ultimately much more imbued with depth, meaning, and possibilities for growth.
Today, thank God, I had the eyes to see it when it happened.
So I'm grateful for my wife, who saw an opportunity and fought for it.
I'm proud of my son, who was brave and overcame a fear.
And I'm overwhelmed by the Creator, who showers us with snow, with grace, and with kairos.
