My shoes clicked on the tiled floor as I walked into the quiet room. It was a small well-kept room with a single bed and a couple of chairs. There was Joan as she slept quietly. Her breathing was shallow, and her face would sometimes scrunch up as if she was dreaming something or having a conversation with someone that I couldn’t see.
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Last Sunday was the second Sunday of Pentecost and the beginning of Ordinary Time. Ordinary Time. So much of every life is spent doing ordinary things. When we go through life, we observe so many things that we would consider to be ordinary things. And because they are ordinary, we don’t seem to remember them. If you question this, just try to remember what you ate for supper last week or last month. I find myself in a weird disposition of late. Maybe you have felt that same way. Maybe you are like me wondering what is happening to the world. When I check out my news feed on my phone, there are always articles about something awful that happened in the past 12 hours. It seems like the world is on fire.
We all know how hurried and busy life can be. We are consumed by our calendars and the drive to get to the next thing. As we observe the holiest week of the Christian year, I wonder what it might take to “slow our roll;” to pause long enough to let the passion of Jesus soak into our pores and touch our hearts. Some nights I lie awake, wishing for sleep, because I’m fretting about you. I’m worrying about your health, hoping for your peace. I’m tossing and turning about what to teach and preach. I’m vexed about simply keeping track of your coming and going. Sometimes I try counting sheep as I fret about counting and tending the sheep. |
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