As I began preparing yesterday to return to Denver after our month in AZ, I started to think about my life. Not my big-picture life. My every day life. This distraction allowed me the opportunity to put off the nasty job of cleaning out my refrigerator, something I must do because much of what’s in it won’t be good when we return on Christmas Day. It is a job I heartily dislike.
Anyway, what I realized is that much of my life is quite mundane and predictable. I get up almost the same time every morning. My routine is exactly the same: I turn on my computer. While it opens up, I post my blog on Facebook. I then walk around the house and open the blinds and the doors, if weather-appropriate. I don’t make my coffee ahead of time, though I could since I get up so predictably at 5:30. So I fill the pot with water and coffee and press the on button. Once the coffee is going, I return to my computer to check my emails and make sure that Chili’s and Christopher and Banks has sent me their predictable five or six emails overnight.
And so on, and so forth. My life is so mundane that I won’t bore you with the rest of my day. I will, however, suggest that most of you could say the same thing. Activities one day are much the same as the next. But you know what? That’s alright.
Last weekend’s gospel was the first of several that remind us that our time on this earth is limited. The gospels between now and the beginning of Advent are the frightening reminders that some day the world will end. They used to terrify me, but as I get older, I am much more aware that none of us lives forever. (Although I admit I’m not convinced that Betty White won’t be the exception.)
It’s pretty clear that at this point in my life, I’m not going to come up with the cure for Parkinson’s. Writing the Great American Novel is unlikely. I’m not even sure I will ever fly first-class, one of the few remaining items on my Bucket List.
But I can be a patient care partner for someone who has Parkinson’s. And I can continue to write my daily blog. I might not fly first class, but maybe I will. In the meantime, I can afford to fly regular class and be thankful that my legs are short.
At the end of the day, my life is not terribly extraordinary. But I can concentrate on doing my ordinary activities in an extraordinary way. This is the best way I can serve God.
When you read my blog tomorrow, I will be traveling to Denver. So I may or may not post a blog on Wednesday. If not, talk to you soon.