Ode to a Normal Day

When I decided I wanted to enter the blogging world, I thought I would like to begin by posting some thoughts written by someone who is anonymous to me. I received it long ago during a lesson being given at Church. It struck me as rather a profound way to look at life, during those days that are so ordinary they may seem a little monotonous, but especially those days that my path through life gets a little rocky.

Yesterday, when my daughter was here she got on the computer and before I knew it she had helped me set up this blog. I posted some thoughts that I had recently written because with two little kids "helping" us, I didn't have time to compose my thoughts.

So, without further ado, here is what was going to be my first post:

"It was a routine day--mostly washing, ironing, a trip to the store, meals, and dishes. It was pleasant here and there--a letter from an old friend, my husband's phone call for no particular reason, a half-hour with a good book, some loud laughs with my children at dinner time.

It was irritating now and then--a sticky ocean of spilled syrup, the crying of the tired children, the bathtub that ran over and the snub of a neighbor. It was frightening in some ways--Mom's waning health and increasing discouragement, the big blowup after dinner about homework and learning to accept responsibility, and the guilt that followed my hasty words.

It was blessed with love, in a pig-shaped breadboard made and presented to me by my son, in the wave of tenderness as I watched my cherubs sleeping in soft moonlight, long lashes shadowing their cheeks; in an hour alone at the end of the day with my husband.

Just a normal day!

A normal day! It is a jewel! In time of war, in peril of death, people have dug their hands and faces into the earth and remembered this. In time of sickness and pain, people have buried their faces in pillows and wept for this. In time of loneliness and separation, people have stretched themselves taut and waited for this. In time of hunger, homelessness, and want, people have raised bony hands to the skies and stayed alive for this.

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me not pass you by in a quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it will not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want more than all the world--your return."

It is my hope that I will always savor every common, ordinary, normal, maybe even a little boring, day.

Gloria