AboutAbout a month ago, I slapped a blue-ish sticky note on my kitchen counter; scribbled on it were the words "the joy of ordinary days." This joy and these ordinary days sometimes present such challenge to me. Joy. Ordinary. Seems almost unnatural that these two words would nestle together so well…
February 21, 2010 (Notes from Another Day)
About a month ago, I slapped a blue-ish sticky note on my kitchen counter; scribbled on it were the words "the joy of ordinary days." This joy and these ordinary days sometimes present such challenge to me. Joy. Ordinary. Seems almost unnatural that these two words would nestle together so well…
Always present, our living room has three metal letters that overlook our everyday…J-O-Y. Less a boast and more reminder to reach for that simple, beautiful, challenging state of being. Joy. It is never planned nor manipulated nor guilted into being. I seem to trip over it.
It strikes me that joy is ever-present though-hiding in plain sight- just waiting to be recognized. It cannot be manufactured or purchased. It is not dependent upon people, wealth, health, or dreams realized. The celebrated seem so often to miss it. It's an odd bird. A quiet eagle on the wing or hummingbird sipping sweetness in a summer garden.
Joy apeared tonight in a snowy walk, a funny photo that Madi put online, a call and invitation to play Apples to Apples with Kenan's girlfriend's family, memory of a good day's run/walk with Katie, a Sunday read & nap, a snow angel, a call from a lovely friend… I am so grateful.
Joy and gratitude seem to travel together.
Faith tells me that joy is a gift and can be a constant.
Life tells me that joy can ease the agony of a troubled season and make the scars almost beautiful to consider. Joy wastes nothing.
Joy.
Elusive. Available. Challenging. Constant. Solid. Simple. Confusing. Expansive; a bright young universe moving further into the dark void and filling it.
Ordinary…for most of my life, this has been a hated word-a curse-a slur.
Now, ordinary is a joy; a sweetness. Ordinary days, ordinary joys, ordinary lives, ordinary loves. It seems that ordinary people and ordinary loves tend not to flame out as quickly as the extraordinary and oft-celebrated. And the aroma of ordinary days stays with us like the smoke from a bonfire or the smell of chlorine from a swim.
As much as I hope to love or live with a passion that would be called "extraordinary", I've begun noticing how sweet are the ordinaries in this short life.
The most solid marriages-though extraordinary-are built on the kindnesses in each ordinary day; a kiss on the forehead, a pot of coffee readied before your feet hit the floor, a thoughtful prayer while folding clothes, and the "ordinary" desire to love well and build a family that gives more than it takes.
I think of my sister, Mimi, and her husband, Moe. To some, they are ordinary. If you pay attention…you will witness a thousand extraordinary decisions in their ordinary days that builds joy-not selfishly-but for one another and the others in their orbit. Mimi & Moe are indeed-my heroes. Ask their kids…mOe, Danny, and Hanna. And my kids, too.
Ordinary jobs…this morning, I raced from early church out past the Konza to my best friends' home for a run and immediately was faced with the need for "ordinary." The roads were slick and slushy and crazy bad-not yet tended by the ordinary truck with a plow. Oy.
I needed to see my friends' faces and walk/run beside them so I powered on. A farmer in a tractor pulled out ahead of me at one point. He was just feeding cattle…his ordinary job. I had to slow down behind him for about a mile as he moved a bale from barn to pasture. In that slowing, I watched a hawk hunt, snow shift direction, and that farmer diligently tend to the herd in his care. It was bitter cold and he-undaunted-took care of his responsibilities. Ordinary. Admirable. Becoming rarer each day.
Today was an ordinary Sunday with nap, friends, family, faith, a walk, an invitation to play, a call, a book or two…I am grateful. This ordinary day was fertile ground for extraordinary joy. The joy of ordinary days. And though this note fails to fully express my heart on this month-long rumination, I'm okay with that imperfection.
And I am so grateful. month ago, I slapped a blue-ish sticky note on my kitchen counter; scribbled on it were the words "the joy of ordinary days." This joy and these ordinary days sometimes present such challenge to me. Joy. Ordinary. Seems almost unnatural that these two words would nestle together so well…
Always present, our living room has three metal letters that overlook our everyday…J-O-Y. Less a boast and more reminder to reach for that simple, beautiful, challenging state of being. Joy. It is never planned nor manipulated nor guilted into being. I seem to trip over it.
It strikes me that joy is ever-present though-hiding in plain sight- just waiting to be recognized. It cannot be manufactured or purchased. It is not dependent upon people, wealth, health, or dreams realized. The celebrated seem so often to miss it. It's an odd bird. A quiet eagle on the wing or hummingbird sipping sweetness in a summer garden.
Joy apeared tonight in a snowy walk, a funny photo that Madi put online, a call and invitation to play Apples to Apples with Kenan's girlfriend's family, memory of a good day's run/walk with Katie, a Sunday read & nap, a snow angel, a call from a lovely friend… I am so grateful.
Joy and gratitude seem to travel together.
Faith tells me that joy is a gift and can be a constant.
Life tells me that joy can ease the agony of a troubled season and make the scars almost beautiful to consider. Joy wastes nothing.
Joy.
Elusive. Available. Challenging. Constant. Solid. Simple. Confusing. Expansive; a bright young universe moving further into the dark void and filling it.
Ordinary…for most of my life, this has been a hated word-a curse-a slur.
Now, ordinary is a joy; a sweetness. Ordinary days, ordinary joys, ordinary lives, ordinary loves. It seems that ordinary people and ordinary loves tend not to flame out as quickly as the extraordinary and oft-celebrated. And the aroma of ordinary days stays with us like the smoke from a bonfire or the smell of chlorine from a swim.
As much as I hope to love or live with a passion that would be called "extraordinary", I've begun noticing how sweet are the ordinaries in this short life.
The most solid marriages-though extraordinary-are built on the kindnesses in each ordinary day; a kiss on the forehead, a pot of coffee readied before your feet hit the floor, a thoughtful prayer while folding clothes, and the "ordinary" desire to love well and build a family that gives more than it takes.
I think of my sister, Mimi, and her husband, Moe. To some, they are ordinary. If you pay attention…you will witness a thousand extraordinary decisions in their ordinary days that builds joy-not selfishly-but for one another and the others in their orbit. Mimi & Moe are indeed-my heroes. Ask their kids…mOe, Danny, and Hanna. And my kids, too.
Ordinary jobs…this morning, I raced from early church out past the Konza to my best friends' home for a run and immediately was faced with the need for "ordinary." The roads were still slick and slushy and crazy bad-not yet tended by the ordinary truck with a plow. Oy.
I needed to see my friends' faces and walk/run beside them so I powered on. A farmer in a tractor pulled out ahead of me at one point. He was just feeding cattle…his ordinary job. I had to slow down behind him for about a mile as he moved a bale from barn to pasture. In that slowing, I watched a hawk hunt, snow shift direction, and that farmer diligently tend to the herd in his care. It was bitter cold and he-undaunted-took care of his responsibilities. Ordinary. Admirable. Becoming rarer each day.
Today was an ordinary Sunday with nap, friends, family, faith, a walk, an invitation to play, a call, a book or two…I am grateful. This ordinary day was fertile ground for extraordinary joy. The joy of ordinary days. And though this note fails to fully express my heart on this month-long rumination, I'm okay with that imperfection.
And I am so grateful.
