Doing

Yet you, Lord, are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
Isaiah 64:8

We are catching up on Doctor Who episodes during meals.  I know - turn the television off and talk...  But that's exactly what we do.  We talk.  There is action; there are strong characters; there are choices to be made.  It is concrete enough for my daughter to talk about at her level, and it explores interesting concepts and situations - darkness and light, forgiveness and hope - so that my husband and I can carry on our favorite 'what if' conversations.  

"So, what if you knew you only had one day to live?"  He asks me.  "What would you do?"

I think about his question for a half a second - just enough time to fleetingly picture different times and places.  One day to live.  I try to imagine my favorite things.  Going to the beach, camping, sightseeing, spending an afternoon at the amusement park.

A little more background.  We are in the process of getting our house ready to put on the market - and it has involved days, weeks literally, of work. The kind of work where you fall into bed before the sun has gone down and drop to sleep despite the stiffness in your fingers and hands, despite the redness of your knees and the aches in your back and shoulders.  This is what tired feels like, and I admit, I'm not used to it, and I'm glad I don't regularly do this kind of labor.  But, my favorite army guy, my husband, took a week off to get the 'big stuff' done, and we've been laboring together where the weekend melted into those precious week days, and then, too soon, the weekend again and he must return to the his Army job.


But I keep coming back to the work.  In our last move, we acid-washed, painted and re-tiled a pool together.  We've built fences and done landscaping work - spreading tons of rock across planters and flower beds.  We've stained and hung cabinets; we've constructed countertops; we've laid entire houses of floors, ceramic tile, travertine, bamboo, laminate, and now slate.  Together.

I tell him this may sound very strange, but this working together thing, is what I would do if I had one day to live.  Funny, huh?  I would choose the tired, the aches, the pains, the practically falling asleep on my feet feeling.

"When you expect the world to end at any moment, you know there is no need to hurry. You take your time, you do your work well.”

Thomas Merton

Not so funny when I really think about it. We are working together toward a common goal, a common vision - which is concrete and seeable as we go - and therefore, fulfilling.  We fellowship - while our hands, feet and backs labor, our minds connect in conversation, planning, joking, laughing.   We work through issues and make decisions together, partners in the project.  We are mutually tired and mutually sore - so we even commiserate together.  See, it's not really the work I'm choosing; it's the time -

moments becoming days - shared.

God has chosen us for His day.  We are his creation - his work, his time.  I don't want to waste His day on rumor and gossip or fighting.  I don't want to waste it on one-ups-manship or keeping-up-with.  I don't want to waste his day in fear, or sadness, or despair.  I don't want to waste it on drama.

He chose us.  He created us.  Don't I want to live in thankfulness for that?  Don't I want to glorify my Maker?  I will do my work well.

There is joy in that.

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