Our lives are stories in progress. Set in the muddy milieu of where we live, love, work and play daily, these narratives we inhabit flesh out the intricate details of our routines and random moments of serendipity. It can seem so mundane as they are lived out, even ordinary and not worth mentioning, but the lives we lead, for all their normalcy, are the soil in which God designs his purposes, his intentions, his delights.
It is with this thought in mind that I remember the seemingly mundane occurrences of my week:
*A hug of a three year old girl who was accidently knocked down by an older boy. The calmness that washed over her as she realized she was being comforted at her pace.
*Lunch with my Mom. The conversation, both simple and profound. The reaffirmation of our love for each other, over and over again.
*A meeting with my pastor. The mutual respect and admiration. The collegiality and the efforts to listen and communicate.
*Catching up with a long-time friend. Realizing that we can speak freely with each other, knowing what we share is safe in mutually honored confidence.
*Laughter, giggles and panting (the last especially by me) as the kids and I raced between the chairs, out into the gymn, and back again between the chairs faster and faster last night, singing one of Hillsong Kids songs, “I Am Not Forgotten.” Plus the goofy dancing by yours truly and the kids as they tried to emulate me without falling on the floor laughing.
*A quiet couple of minutes with each child during free playtime as they shared with me personally what they are asking God to help them with in the coming week. Truly profound. Truly heartfelt. The stuff of life.
*Driving truck through the city. Feeling satisfied in knowing I did my best and I did it safely.
*Praying for unchurched kids and their families all around me. Some very poor. Others very affluent. Others simply ordinary in their situations. But they all need Jesus. And very few realize it.