Monday and Sunday

January 15, 2018

Today was somewhat of an odd day for me. It’s MLK day, and I suppose I should say something fitting about it, but instead, I spent the morning and early afternoon with my granddaughter working at our Dunkirk church food pantry and clothing shop, talking with clients and with the developmentally disabled people from the Resource Center who work sorting clothes for the latter. Dr. King was keen on preserving the dignity of every human being, so we did our best to do this with those whose lot in life has been more challenging than mine. I think that’s as good a tribute as attending a ceremony would be.

Mondays are often a bit challenging for me. One of the benefits of retirement was not having to always have my brain in gear (although there are those who could legitimately question whether it ever is). After preaching on Sunday, it would be nice to simply back off and relax, not having to begin thinking about next week’s service, but as a part-timer, I don’t have that luxury. I’m supposed to merely be pulpit supply, but Mondays and Wednesdays in the office, a monthly board meeting Wednesday evening, an extra ride to pick up some furniture for the Willow mission, visiting a few people facing some special life circumstances, added to a few non-church commitments, and before I know it, Sunday is here again.

I suppose I could complain about it, but then I remember; I chose this life. Again. And when it’s all said and done, I am loving it. My only concern is whether we can turn things around in the time I have left to offer these good people. Ultimately, that’s in God’s hands, as is the outcome of whatever we do. I am hopeful; there have been some good signs, but there is much to be done. And today is Monday. I’ve already begun thinking about Sunday’s service, and trust that as I let the Word of God simmer in my soul, the Holy Spirit will from that simmering produce a meal nourishing and appetizing. Like a good meal, a good sermon isn’t fast food, so it takes time. Fortunately, God isn’t in a hurry, and slow growth doesn’t bother him. It is winter, and the dormancy is a necessary part of it all, perhaps even in church life.

So Monday, I read and pray, think a little, and begin to put it all in God’s hands. And I give thanks even as a part of me feels anxious about Sunday, trusting that the Holy Spirit will reveal exactly how he wants to bring glory to Jesus Christ just six days from now.