Monday, January 10, 2011

At Random



Sometimes the components of my life can seem so undirected, random like the bits of tutu I find everywhere these days.  Soccer balls.  Tonka trucks.  Nature walks.  Chicken, hominy, tomatillo salsa on rice.  Word World.  Lip gloss.  Pandora.  Sacred fireside reading. 








Gretchen Rubin, in her book The Happiness Project says, What you do everyday matters more than what you do every once in a while.

And it's funny how caught up I can get in the once-in-a-whiles.  Like the time I was driving to Starbucks, ready for some all-by-myself-time.  I passed a man struggling, pushing his electric wheelchair in the cold.  His body jerked, giving up his cerebral palsy tell.  I drove by him three times before I finally stopped, parked my car at Meijer and pushed him home. 

His name was Jeff and the battery to his chair had died on his way home from the State school nearby.  As Jeff and I chatted on the way to his apartment building, I was humbled at how many times he expressed concern for me "wearing myself out."  I was humbled at the three chances I had to get it right.  To do good.  In fact, I walked, teary, all the way back to my car.  I'm sorry, did you catch that?  Let me repeat: I walked.  All by myself (okay, I'm sounding like Eden now.)  No assistance needed.

I lived there for days.  I atta-boy-ed Humility so many times, it puffed into Pride.  I was proud that I'd "done the right thing," (never you mind that it took me so long.)  I mean, move over Mother Theresa:  I walked a guy who needed help home once. 

I've been thinking about what I do everyday.  It speaks to my objectives, my values.  What does the everyday say about me as a friend?  A mom?  A wife?  A sister?  A homemaker?  A daughter?  A woman?  Does the everyday reveal that my heart's home is Heaven?  I'm not sure that a long look in that mirror would prove friendly.

And so I'm thankful for morning sun, that yawns and stretches and reaches over to kiss the snow. 




New days, opportunities.  Realizing afresh that I want the random bits and scenes to fit together to be something - more than just noise, or occupied space.  To be marked by kindness, patience, love...in the everyday.

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