Ever had one of those days?
When everything annoys you? When you feel as though you can't get anything done? When procrastination seems like a lifestyle worthy of pursuit? Life has no flavor? And the most you can hope for is that you don't have any bills in the mailbox? My day started out like that today. Pity me.
I posted a blog in GRIEF MATTERS. Then I proceeded to make a liar out of myself for having written what I did. I wanted to crawl back into bed and cover my head. I didn't care if the sun shined, the earth quaked or the computer crashed.
Instead, I had a quiet time reading from Second Timothy. Silence was deafening from the quietness of my moments with the Lord.
So I commented on a couple of blogs I'd found recently that I liked to visit. I posted a new Blog Review I thought others might enjoy reading. And I tried to post a blog here, on SelahV Today, but nothing came to my mind. I drew a blank.
I was sipping my lukewarm morning coffee (disgusting in itself) and surveying my home...specifically my living room, dining room and kitchen. I thought what a mess everything was. Tell-tale signs of our trip this weekend rested on the floor. Suitcase, dirty laundry, unpacked snack-bags. The dog had tracked in dried leaves this morning and shoes were at the front door. Along with those things, last week's dust lay mocking me on tables, chests and television screens.
I'd spent most of my time last week reading blogs, writing blogs, babysitting, weeding and gardening. I ran errands, filed an income tax extension and ignored housework. Now, I considered all the things demanding my attention. Nothing was appealing about any of it.
I thought about the laundry. Tomorrow~~I'll get to that tomorrow. Last night's dirty dishes shouted from the sink. For some reason it seemed like I'd left five-days worth, when in reality there was only a pot, a couple of bowls, and a mug or two. On one-of-those-days, little annoyances seem much bigger. Molehills become mountains.
Then I got a call. Escape! I can leave it all behind. I went to play with my granddaughters so my daughter could do her bookkeeping. However, as it turned out, she was able to go out to lunch with her husband. Uninterrupted. To me, that was one of the greatest things that happened today. Then there were the giggles and smiles that poured forth from HayJae as we played ball, made a rainbow from strips of multi-colored paper, and pasted petals on her imaginary garden.
Later, we took a nap together. Bliss. Another escape. I awoke refreshed, ready to tackle the world. I came home and went through my house like ants at a picnic.
I went out and picked daisies from my flower garden. A fresh bouquet for the dust-free dining room table, the hall chest and bathroom window-sill. I filled the birdfeeders, then settled into my chair to watch the sparrows spook the cardinals. Doves gathered beneath the feeders and picked at seeds strewn on the ground.
I took some pictures of a Peace Rose I'd been patiently waiting to see bloom. It's blooming today was one of those God-things. It was a gentle assurance that someone I'd been praying for would be okay.
It wasn't till just a few minutes ago I realized one-of-those-days had melted into one filled with accomplishment, blessing and provision. Nothing had changed from start to finish. No great miracles. No parades, or fan-fare. Just an ordinary day, with ordinary things, ending in an ordinary way. Like most every other day. And through it all I prayed.
I prayed for a friend whose husband was going through a trying time at work. I prayed for the parents of students in Virginia. I prayed for Maggi, a mother of 4 boys, whose life was hanging by a thread. I prayed for the Iraqi people. I prayed for the families who were going to learn their father, brother, son had died in the roadside bombing in Iraq. I prayed for a friend in Kentucky who was going through a tough time.
And I recalled the scripture I'd been reading this morning at 5:00 a.m. "In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for noble purposes, and some for ignoble. If a man cleanses himself from the latter, he will be an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work." II Tim. 2:20,21.
Much of my home--and my temple--is made up of things ignoble, worthless stuff. But some of what I have is gold and silver. When I cleanse myself of me and focus on others and the positive, and use the noble for the Lord, I become an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, and useful to the Master. And then ordinary becomes extraordinary for someone else to have a better than ordinary day. If not today, then one-of-these-days.
[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2007]
