18 April, 2011 § Leave a comment
Since my Sundays during this season are consistently overflowing from dawn to dusk (literally!) with church commitments, eating with our homeless friends in James Bute Park, taking turns going to the laundromat or our neighborhood chain grocery store or cooking dinner for the 6 of us (or some combination thereof) and wrapping up last-minute paperwork responsibilities, Mondays have proven to be my real day of Sabbath. While I always make a recurring effort to protect a sense of rest, stillness, restoration, vitality, color or adventure in one various form or another, I also look forward to the unpredictability of what each Monday will hold. Sometimes I stay at home all day; sometimes I scribble out writing to put Sylvia Plath to shame; sometimes I hole up in the downtown public library; sometimes I hang out with a friend at a nearby coffee shop… only Monday knows but sometimes the most important thing is that I do not fail to pursue the fullness and promise latent within the hours of the day.
– donned one of my favorite paisley patterned skirts and gray leggings to celebrate an uncharacteristically mild, spring-like Houston day
– rode buses number 40, 81, 82 and 66 across multiple neighborhoods
– benefited from a roommate’s generosity in lending me his laptop for the day
– camped out at Brasil for several hours, an ivy-covered brick coffee shop and art gallery downtown with snooty staff and a gorgeous back patio
– worked in companionable silence at the same back patio table with a good friend in the morning
– made a pilgrimage to the nearest large-scale bookstore in the afternoon
– spent over 5 hours researching racial profiling, affirmative action, cultural nostalgia and more for a grad school paper
– savored a cinnamon crunch muffin with the aid of a plastic fork
– started digging into Thomas a Kempis’ “Imitation of Christ” — finally!
– interviewed for a staff position that would lead to staying in Houston until July of 2012
– wondered what it would be like to live out of an RV for a lengthy period of time (see http://www.walkslowlylivewildly.com)
– and, in general, loved the day and all that it offered
God’s creative power is not exhausted by this earthly life,
nor is His majestic love locked within the limited walls of time and space.
Would not this be a strangely irrational universe if God did not ultimately join virtue and fulfillment,
and an absurdly meaningless universe if death were a blind alley
leading the human race into a state of nothingness?
— Martin Luther King, Jr., “Strength to Love”