Notes from Jan

This is the Day.

September 8, 2015

Woke up with the sun warming my face, nudging me to toss off the sheet and carpe diem
Even though Jud and I each memorized Psalm 118:24 in Sunday School — “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it” — our appreciation for the day, this day, intensified with Jud’s diagnosis more than 4 years ago.

That’s one bit of good news tucked in with the bad.  This day, this moment matters.

We all know that to some degree.
In Listening to Your Life, Frederick Buechner wrote, “If you were aware of how precious today is, you could hardly live through it.  Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all.”

Some days I feel like I’m hardly living; slippery perspective.
A quick glance in the mirror and I sometimes see someone I don’t always recognize.

Today I made myself “work out.”  Seems as natural as breathing for some.
I’ve met folks who actually love going to the gym.
But if I couldn’t watch ESPN or CNN while I ride that bike, I’m not sure I could do it.
Though I’d probably still go because I love the people who work at the BMW center: Ross, Dede, Marie, David, Cordelia. And I go not only because of Jud’s example but for my children and grandchildren.
It’s important.

Among the many books, booklets, workbooks on grief that’ve come my way are reminders to “take care of yourself.”

So I made myself call the doctor this afternoon to schedule my annual physical.
Ugh!
Cancelled last year’s when it landed on the day of an unscheduled visit to MGH for a transfusion for Jud.
I don’t mind the physical.  It’s the great weigh-in that sends my blood pressure soaring.
Never do I travel as light as when I head down the hall to the scale.
No earrings, no wristwatch, no shoes.  Just the bare essentials to avoid a scandal.

Seems like I’m doing more carping than carpe diem-ing.
Some days are like that.
Gratitude and grumbling vying for control.
Until…
God shows up with reminders of daily manna and sometimes quail.
Undeserved provisions.

It happened when I saw the FREE sign on an old sofa along the main street into Gloucester this afternoon.
I’d gone to pick up mail held hostage at the post office while I was in California for 10 days.
FREE.  Love that 4 letter word.
Buy one, get one FREE.
The afternoon is FREE for you to do as you choose.
With your entree comes a FREE dessert. (Now, you know why I hate the great weigh-in)

Jud and I found a FREE sofa in a Denver alley in the first months of our marriage and his second year in seminary.
Felt like a gift from heaven.
But you and I know it’s never about the stuff, really.
It’s what the provision points to or rather who.
A God who cares.
Cares enough to let me wake up to another day, then nudges me to work out, make the doctor appointment and let me see a FREE sofa on the side of the road to remind me that the God who provided in the past is with me now with the manna I need but could never earn for this one precious day.
FREE.
Like this day.

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