The other day I sat on my front porch and watched the world go by. It was Sunday, and I finally decided that the biblical admonition to keep the Sabbath holy, or apart as the meaning intends, is a good one. OK...I didn't really just sit and "watch" per se. I had my laptop on, of all things, my lap and I was writing.
I don't want to get into the theological argument about the Sabbath being Saturday or Sunday, the day Christians typically refer to as such. To me it doesn't matter. I will leave such discussions for those who like to argue, and these days issues like that aren't worth my energy anymore. What is important, however, is that we take time out to allow our minds and hearts to be still...to listen...and to reflect.
As I sat on the porch and watched people walk by, I realized how fortunate I am...or perhaps blessed, if one wishes to use that vernacular. There was a time when I thought we needed a bigger house...or a newer car...or that my lawn could be a healthier shade of green (it's usually brown this time of year, owing to my desire to use less of the resources we have).
One of the things I reflected on was my trip to Kenya, when I visited an orphanage for kids whose parents were killed in the election-related violence a few years ago, or died due to various addiction-related issues. I also think about the high school in the midst of a Nairobi slum, with smiling faces wearing used and worn hand-me-down uniforms, happy for the opportunity of an education.
I don't want to get into the theological argument about the Sabbath being Saturday or Sunday, the day Christians typically refer to as such. To me it doesn't matter. I will leave such discussions for those who like to argue, and these days issues like that aren't worth my energy anymore. What is important, however, is that we take time out to allow our minds and hearts to be still...to listen...and to reflect.
As I sat on the porch and watched people walk by, I realized how fortunate I am...or perhaps blessed, if one wishes to use that vernacular. There was a time when I thought we needed a bigger house...or a newer car...or that my lawn could be a healthier shade of green (it's usually brown this time of year, owing to my desire to use less of the resources we have).
One of the things I reflected on was my trip to Kenya, when I visited an orphanage for kids whose parents were killed in the election-related violence a few years ago, or died due to various addiction-related issues. I also think about the high school in the midst of a Nairobi slum, with smiling faces wearing used and worn hand-me-down uniforms, happy for the opportunity of an education.
Closer to home, I also reflect on the Indian Reservations I visited in the course of my work. One need not go far to realize that many of us in the West are fortunate indeed...and even among us are many who struggle to make ends meet. It is in those reflective moods I am allowed...or perhaps caused, to put things into perspective. It allows me to not succumb to the "tyranny of the urgent" but instead reflect on what is truly important...and eternal.
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