Thursday, June 18, 2015

Why Every Day Must Count

18 June 2015
For an early riser, it is late in the day, what I normally call "mid-morning."  It is 11:22 CDST.   It was only about 2.5 hours ago when I left my bed, which normally happens around 6:00.   As difficult as it was to get up, it was even more difficult to fall asleep last night.

Yesterday was a normal Wednesday -- activity off and on until going to the campus of South Main Baptist Church for food, fellowship, prayer, Bible study and choir rehearsal.   I had the pleasure of sharing my table with four of our youths, and a youth imposter, a middle-school-looking young lady who turned out to be "Mary" -- one of our ministry interns who is on a college summer break.   They enjoyed a fantastic "taco" meal from our kitchen --- flour and corn tortillas, chicken, beef, sauteed onions, bell peppers & other stuff, guacamole, pico de gallo, sour cream, refried beans (like I've never had before!) and all the other "fixings" that make a fantastic DIY TexMex plate.  And, of course, way-too-decadent desserts.   It was great to converse with folks young enough to be my "grands" and watch them eat with gusto the stuff that I've had to give up.   (I settled for a meatless, tortilla-less, cheeseless, dessert-less meal.  It was good, but there was no chocolate in that mix.)   I noticed when they left, the table was a clean as before they sat to feast.  [Our kids rock.  :)]

Bible study was a look at two obscure characters who were raised from the dead by Peter and Paul, Tabitha (Dorcas) and Eutychus, respectively.  Though the end result was the same for both -- they came to life -- there were different perspectives for the two situations.   (And I am reminded how no matter how often the Bible is read, there is always something new to find.)

Toward the end of choir rehearsal, one of our members read to us her sentiments following the loss of her brother.  We were reminded of how, whether we are aware are not, we leave our prints on the lives of others.

Then, on the way home, I had a nagging compulsion to cancel this morning's 8:30 a.m. meeting.  There was no clear explanation, but I sat in my car and composed a text setting out my reasons (which in hindsight, make absolute sense), and sending it.   When I came inside I sat at my desk, and copied and pasted the text of the message in an email and sent that as well.  (I am, after all, a belt-and-suspenders kind of woman.)  I was overwhelmed, and had no explanation until I turned on the news, and there IT was -- the story of a shooting inside a church not long ago.

I poured myself into bed, could not sleep, watched episode after episode of Stargate 1, Season 3, eventually just passing out.   When I "came to" this morning I had no inclination to move.  Like many others, my mind was a whirling mess of who/what/why/how, and there were no answers.  Then the why bother "ism" set in, followed by paralysis.  I simply did not move.

Today is your birthday?   How can you celebrate?

How can I NOT?   I am still here!

But what about those people?

I grieve for those people, and their families, and for people of whom I know nothing --- the ones who did not awake this morning, the ones who breathed their last before midnight, the ones who . . . who . . . heck, everyone.  

So, just skip the day.   Stay in bed.  Wait until tomorrow.   You need a break.

Then, the light came on.

No!   I don't get to skip a day.   I don't get to wait until tomorrow.  Even if I need a break, I have to make this day count for something, and that means I must move!  I've got to get moving.  There is something for me to do TODAY.   Something productive.  Something meaningful.  Something beneficial for someone.  I've got to print myself on this day, some how, some way.   

It would be different if I could not get out of bed.  There have been lots and lots of days like that.  This is not one of them.  And I am thankful.  So, while, I can do something with this day, I must make this day count.

How this day will count I have yet to know; I may never know.  But this day is gift to be cherished by living it, not by hiding in bed with videos streamed form Amazon Prime.   I suppose it is fitting that on this day, marking another year of life, when as I told my Brer that there have been several times when I thought I was being fitted for my wings (or horns, depending on whether my soul will soar or plummet), it should be shared with joy and thanksgiving.

This is why every day must count for something.  My prayer is that the something will be positive --- opportunities to share, care, show love/grace/mercy, encourage, be gracious and kind, spread joy, be salt and light to the world, making a print, even on just one.

If I can help somebody, as I pass along,
If I can cheer somebody, with a word or song,
If I can show somebody, that he's travelling wrong,
Then my living shall not be in vain.

If I can do my duty, as a good Christian ought,
If I can bring back beauty, to a world filled with wrought,
If I can spread love's message, as the Master taught,
Then my living shall not be in vain.