Next Sunday is the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time… My 10 yr old remarked the other day that there is a LOT of Ordinary Time. It does seem that way doesn’t it? One ordinary day runs into another ordinary day… Time can slip by so easily that it is as a breeze through the wisps of hair at the nape of the neck… barely noticeable unless the temperature is an extreme one. It seems that this year has been one of extremes… Extreme stress, extreme relief, extreme health, extreme illness, extreme educational success, extreme educational chaos, and we won’t even discuss the extreme weight gain…
The one constant has been Faith. It has been a constant walk of obedience, of discovery, of patience. Sometimes that walk has brought great sorrow, sobbing on the floor at the Feet of the Savior. Sometimes that walk has brought such intense joy that it welled out of me in great tears. Sometimes it has been a quieter thing… warm, peaceful, a steady source of comfort and solace like a favorite blanket or your own bed when your body is weary. A steady confidence in Christ my King, that I do not walk alone, that I am in the center of His will, that nothing comes to me but through His hands. Oddly, it has been the only thing in the past few months that is a success… and yet I feel like such a failure.
Things were going so well until Rebecca got sick. The housework was done consistently, lessons tripped along at an uncommonly good pace, the children’s attitudes were good, I was even getting the last bits of odds and ends sorted through from the move. Rebecca’s illness shut all of that down immediately. Oh sure, we worked at keeping things clean and not abandoning our responsibilities, but a child doesn’t get that sick for that long and leave your life untouched. She is finally well, except for a lingering emotional component… and we are trying to hard to get the schedule back, the routine back, the structure back… and it is like a rat in a wheel… we keep going and going and going but getting nowhere and the cage about us only gets messier. The anal-retentive (is that hyphenated?) organization freak (what about the rest of it?) in me is climbing the walls and yet as I look back over the typing…perhaps my perspective is all wrong.
Hasn’t all this ‘failure’ in reality been a success? Life has gone native around my ears and yet the lifeline yet holds. It is not fraying, it does not tremble from the strain, it shows no sign of weakening. I may feel as though I am at the end of the rope, but it is securely tied about me so that even when I am too weak to hold on any longer I will not fall. Above and beyond me, the anchor holds. Pierced hands, wounded still and bleeding hold firm… no trace of pain or impatience on that loving brow, only compassion, mercy and grace… a gentle encouraging smile that says I’ve got you… don’t look down, look at me… you’re really much closer to the top than you think.
Help me O Lord, to see through Your eyes. Help me to see things Eternally while living temporally and keep my focus always on You… Help me to remember that REAL success is not what the world values but what You value. These things about which I worry will all pass away, but the Love I have for You, the Love I pass on to my children, THAT will remain and, unlike knowledge and understanding of math, language arts, and history, can never be given once the opportune moment is gone.
