Day Who Knows What.
8 February, 2011 § 1 Comment
Sometimes I get so caught up in day-to-day living,
I forget to write about it.
I don’t know if that’s really a bad thing.
However. Here’s a line or two of written contemplation.
In recent thinking about the daily intersection
of the sacred and the ordinary, an interaction that takes place all around
in our homes, our neighborhoods and our cities/communal living spaces
if only our eyes are open to perceive that fullness, I came across this thought:
When we see some of our ordinary activities as Christian practices,
we come to perceive how our daily lives
are all tangled up with the things God is doing in the world.
Moments when I’ve seen that tangle a bit more up-close than previously expected
includes the heartfelt reception of clean drinking and bathing water,
carried in large blue corrugated gallon containers, for a neighbor whose pipes froze in the recent freeze —
the simple delivery of 25 dollars and 7 cents worth of recycled-bag groceries for
82-year old Doris Mae whose arthritic hip cannot keep up with her immense spunk
and the size of her warm grin when I kissed her good-bye —
the pressing weight of a stranger’s drunken and cheap beer-soaked breath resting heavy
on the shoulders of me and my friend as we physically picked the Hispanic man up
from his heap of limp bones on the pavement and proceeded to guide him,
stumbling and babbling, across siren-lit, rock music-split, metal-fenced inner city blocks
until we found home again —
even the laughter spilling from the hearts of friends whose faces have become
as familiar and as dear as blood relations —
yes, all of these moments and more
bear testimony to the valiancy of an ordinary life
ordered around Someone other than myself.
Truly I tell you:whatever you did for the least of these
brothers and sisters of mine,
you did for me.