Monday, March 23, 2015

Mondays are a favorite day...

for me in my weeks right now. For many I know that Monday is not good. It signals a return to labor, to stress, to tension, to tasks undone demanding to be done.

But I'm a part-time girl at the "job outside the house" and Monday is my day to both recover from the weekend and to prepare for the week. There is time for a leisurely walk with the dog, for sitting on the porch to drink coffee and read my Bible, to meal plan and grocery shop, to read and study and write for upcoming teaching, and to stay in pajamas or at least comfy clothes until a 3:00 shower.

(I think one of the greatest things is an afternoon shower because it speaks to all sorts of non-hurried, relaxed indulgence.)

So Mondays are a current favorite day for me. However, this Monday has been a somber one as I've thought about the death of Kara Tippetts. I've thought and prayed for her family and friends who are enduring an incredible grief juxtaposed against incredible peace for their joy in all she has gained in being Home.

I've attended two funerals in the past year, both for men that I only knew incidentally, but I know their families and at both funerals, my tears just flowed. Because I know the hurt of grief intimately and I know the collision of faith and belief at the point of great loss. It is a clashing sensation of trust and bewilderment. Grieving with hope is a gift, but death should affect us greatly even as Christians because it speaks to how utterly broken this life is.

My Monday favorite has been a gray, drizzly, and sobering day as I contemplated a family waking up to once again realize the absence of a beloved wife and mom. All my same activities were accomplished, but with the heavy heart of one who longs with those I only know through a blog for the restoration of all things in Jesus Christ to be realized on earth as it is in heaven.

We do not and cannot know the days appointed for us. We have, as Kara did, the daily decision of choosing intentional joy, authentic grace, and unwavering trust. Even tomorrow as I go to work, I will have before me the same choices that she did even though I do not knowingly face a similar outcome.

I don't know how to end a post like this. It's neither light-hearted nor utterly depressing, just achingly real as every life marches to an ending. May the ending be glory filled because we chose well in choosing Jesus every day.

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