In The Meantime

Years ago I decided I should start a gratitude journal. It might have been an idea from Oprah, Regis and Kathie Lee, or Reading Rainbow. I can’t recall, though I do recall the sound of the narrator’s voice from The Poky Little Puppy vhs tape. She was a good ol’ gal. The journal wasn’t meant for lofty thoughts. It was just for simple thanks.

During this season of Thanksgiving I thought it might be interesting and kind of fun to httpspixabay.comenbuilding-blocks-toys-play-abc-123-397143 public domainpull out that journal. For the sake of imagined privacy, I will not name names. This is from – let’s just call it ‘the early years’. Here are some entries:

  • Going into the kitchen and coming upon 3 humming happily as she plays with her toy broom and baby carriage.
  • I’m thankful I can pray for others. Whether I hear a siren and pray for a stranger or for someone on the prayer chain or, like tonight,, hear of something on the T.V. I just heard comedian Bill Cosby’s son was fatally shot and found along the highway; and I prayed for that family and will again.
  • Graham crackers with frosting.
  • The nasal suction thing.
  • The light in little 4’s eyes.
  • I got the floors washed today.
  • Bleach.
  • We have enough money for more milk.
  • I got a nap today!
  • I got the paper read.
  • Everyone ate their supper.
  • I found a parking lot to park in.
  • The thrift store.
  • The kids clapped when I placed supper on the table (parmesan noodles, cooked carrots, applesauce) – such good kids.
  • A lovely nap!
  • Everybody is sleeping in their own bed.
  • 2 told me death is like a peanut. The shell stays and the peanut goes up to heaven. Then 1 added some practicality, “or like a snail”.
  • There was a 1/2 hour period of time when it was quiet and Brian and I sat in the same room, reading.
  • The cross.
  • Tea.

It’s instructive of what my life was like then; a little snapshot of small things that made me grateful. There are only a couple of big things on the list: prayer and the cross. Without them there would be no list. Not for me. (Or maybe I should say without them I would be such a different person, I’m not sure I would make a list.) The rest, though, are the minutia in the life of a mother with young children. It does seem I was a bit overly focused on sleep. (Just know there were other entries with the word ‘nap’ in them.) But those days of limited sleep and money were every bit as good as days with more of both, maybe better. And that’s what gratefulness is, isn’t it: Acknowledgement of the small things in our lives that fill us up?

As we come upon this time of Thanksgiving, let’s be glad we have not only the capacity for gratefulness, but know Someone to thank. Even during these days of tragedy and hostility we can find the good things, the interesting or happy or satisfying moments.

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We, my friends, could very well be witnessing the waning days of this old world of ours. People have thought that before now, of course.

There’s a lot of passion about a number of things. People, good folks, are divided over how best to live out our faith. I wonder if Jesus aches at our arguments even as He waits for word that it’s time. The earth, itself, rumbles here and there with nature’s groanings. There are a few unfulfilled prophecies to watch for in the meantime. But that’s just it. IN THE MEANTIME, while we wait for the next shoe to drop and do whatever we decide is the best thing to do during these days, we can be thankful. This world is a good one. It always has been. It’s still beautiful and the people in it can be, too. Every season brings its own gifts. Let’s be grateful while we have time to show it.

Images: https://pixabay.com/enbuilding-blocks-toys-play-abc-123-397143-public-domain.jpg; goodfreephotos.com11.jpg

One Thing

This old world has seen a lot over the years. It has seen the magnificence of its own birth when everything was fresh and pure and splendid and thriving in the excitement of life. It has seen the formation of families and of nations; and witnessed the goodness, security, and peace; or the harshness, manipulation, and destruction of hope that infuse them depending on whether their leaders are Godly or self-centered. It has witnessed quiet acts of desperation and unnoted acts of charity. It has seen everything there is to see in day-to-day moments and millennia of history.

A person, you and I, doesn’t see as much. The things that we see in our daily lives and the changes we notice over our few decades are just a drop in a grand ocean of time. Our viewpoint is limited to what we see or hear or read; or, if we make the effort, think for ourselves. That’s unusual, though. Most of spoken thought is simply repeated thought. We aren’t ever as wise as we might imagine nor as good.

We have the same hours in a day as anyone throughout this big wide world has ever had. We can fill the minutes with small things or big things that no one, not even the one who does them, will remember a year from now. Those things seem so important. We are so hurried with our duties, so tired with our work.

Still, there is something that helps our vision, an act that clarifies muddled viewpoints, one work that doesn’t tire, at least not in the common sense of tiredness. Yet it fights battles we cannot see, meets unmet needs of those we might not even know, and connects us with the One who made this old world that has seen so much over the years. That unseen thing leads us from that which we see to something beyond our limited sight.

Now you get to choose. Will you wring your hands when the next bomb goes off, light a candle and say a prayer, then continue on with life as you’ve become accustomed to living it? Or will you take the other road, the one that appears to be inactive because it’s invisible?

One uninterrupted hour. Every day. Choose a singular spot. Be part of the magnificence! PRAY.

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One Soldier

He wasn’t sure of himself. He never had been. He’d never been a stand out kind of guy. His grades were unremarkable and he was probably forgotten by his classmates before the last strains of Pomp and Circumstance died away. He had few noticeable skills. He was not the one the coach had depended on or praised. He had been placed in an inconspicuous part of the school choir. Throughout his young life he’d had the same insecurities as everyone else who was so focused on their own they failed to see his.

Sgt. Tim Martin, an infantryman with Headquarters and Headquarters Company of the 1st Battalion, 17th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Infantry Division, shows evidence of the long journey after returning from Operation Buffalo Thunder II at Forward Operating Base Spin Boldak, Afghanistan, July 2, 2012. During the eight-day mission, Afghan and American forces cleared more than 120 kilometers of rugged terrain and escorted approximately 60 truckloads of humanitarian aid for distribution to the people of Shorabak.

But that was the thing. Somewhere beyond the self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy he wondered if the inconspicuous life was really the majority life, the ordinary life, the normal life. If that life – his kind of life – was one that most knew intimately, yet denied publicly, he was as ready as anyone to do the job before him. Maybe life wasn’t about standing out as much as it was doing the work in front of you; not running from it nor ignoring it nor disparaging it, but just doing it.

The whir of the plane’s engines grew louder. He stepped into not just a plane, but so much more. He handed over his known for the unknown and took his stand as one more unheralded, noble life.
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 Armistice Day, also known as Veterans Day, is November 11.
Note: This slice of prose is not the story of the soldier pictured. His story is as follows: Photo: https://www.flickr.com/photos/dvids/7519763810 cc attribution 2.0.jpg of Sgt. Tim Martin, an infantryman with Headquarters and Headquarters Company of the 1st Battalion, 17th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Infantry Division, shows evidence of the long journey after returning from Operation Buffalo Thunder II at Forward Operating Base Spin Boldak, Afghanistan, July 2, 2012. During the eight-day mission, Afghan and American forces cleared more than 120 kilometers of rugged terrain and escorted approximately 60 truckloads of humanitarian aid for distribution to the people of Shorabak.
Photo: http-pixabay.com-en-eagle-america-flag-bird-symbol-219679.jpg