Ordinary

September 15, 2019

Though the weather report for the morning was a bit dodgy, I opted to take the sidecar to Dunkirk. I’m glad I did. Rounding the bend just north of our home, I caught a whiff of some of the freshest air I would inhale today. The sun cast mottled shadows on the road until I topped the rise where the fields stretch out from either side and I could see the next ridges over a mile away, the valleys hidden in between. It was a good morning to be alive!

Friends recently returned from a trip out west to see Yellowstone and Mount Rushmore. The photos they showed me were of magnificent vistas—snow-capped mountains, majestic waterfalls—scenes worthy of a postcard, places that fairly call out, begging to be visited. The amazing thing is, in their quest for places to see, people regularly ignore the glory that lies in their own backyard. I know plenty of people here in Western New York who have never seen Niagara Falls, a mere two hours away. But they’ve traveled across the country and around the world to see places the natives never visit. 

Why is it that other places (or people or things) so often seem more enticing than what is already ours? How is it we get so blinded to what lies all around us that we miss seeing the glory that shines right in front of our faces? This morning I preached on “Enduring Ordinary.” In Jesus’ story of the Talents, three men were entrusted with varying amounts of money by the master. Two invested their money while the third simply buried his trust in the ground. The first two might have lost everything; investing is never a sure bet, start up businesses fail at an alarming rate. But the one who played it safe is the only one condemned. The others were commended with the words, “You have been faithful in a little; I will give you responsibility over much. 

Little, ordinary things are important. Waiting for the big break, looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow which is always somewhere else is not the way to live. I am thankful tonight for the ordinary that surrounds me; the fragrance of this morning’s breeze, my littlest granddaughter wiggling her first loose tooth, the hug and “love you” from Abi, who ran out to say goodbye as I left worship halfway through to go preach in Dunkirk, for dinner with the family, for walking the yard with Linda and having an impromptu conversation with a young couple out for a walk. There is more...little things that of themselves aren’t much, but taken together make for a blessed life. I pray to be faithful in them, and give thanks for them.