Song of an Ordinary Day

Today was an ordinary day.

I went to centering prayer this morning.

I returned phone calls and set appointments.

I walked the dog around the park– two times, so just over a mile.

I stopped at my friend’s for lunch and had iced tea and a piece of her homemade quiche. I prepped a salad before I left and ate that, too, because everyone says we should eat more vegetables and I don’t think I eat enough.

After lunch, I went to Grocery Outlet because some members of my family thought we were running out of food.  I bought apples, mixed greens, salmon burgers, turkey burgers, shampoo, oranges, an eggplant, a red pepper, a box of Special K cereal, broccoli, yogurt, a bag of avocados, two gallons of milk, jam, and some Tillamook cheese that was on sale for $3.00 a pound. Also, three Paul Newman frozen pizzas for supper tonight. They were “buy two, get one free.”  And two gallons of milk.

I carried the groceries to the car, realized it was warmer than I thought and also remembered that I was supposed to help at my daughter’s track meet later that afternoon. It wouldn’t be good for the groceries, or the dog, to be in the car all that time. So, I drove 20 miles up the freeway to our house, unloaded the groceries, put them away, put the dog inside, got a glass of water, then drove 10 miles back down the freeway to my daughter’s school, arriving just as the track meet was starting.

The coaches needed parent helpers. I was assigned to the finish line and got a quick lesson on how to use the fancy timer (Push to start. Push to stop. Push to reset) . I timed three races, and somehow messed up on one of them because I watched the wrong runner. The coaches were patient and seemed grateful and said it was not a problem and that they would fix it.  We will see if they ask me to help again.

My friend dropped my son off at the track meet. He had just finished one of his first middle school track practices, so he was tired.  The coaches said that I could go. My daughter had to stay until the end of the meet, so my son and I went home.

I cooked the frozen pizzas and soon my husband came home and finally my daughter. Then there was homework for my daughter and “please sit down and do your homework,” for my son and “maybe practice piano for five minutes, too?”  My husband and I had a quick “How was your day?” conversation. Then the dinner dishes needed to be washed, the lunch containers rinsed, a new batch of ice cubes made.  The dog asked to go out again, and someone had to go with him, because we wanted to avoid a repeat of the skunk incident if at all possible. The laundry finished drying and had to be put away. I opened the mail, put most of it in the recycle bin, swept the floor one last time, and collapsed on the couch.

I know there are no ordinary days, that every day is grace, that every moment with our loved ones is a gift. I confess, though, that this ordinary day took a lot out of me, that the pace was sometimes frantic, and that there seemed to be no end to the things I needed to do.

But what would I change about this day? I am grateful for my centering prayer group, time with my friend, fresh food from the grocery store, and my sweet dog who shared the ride home with me. I am glad that my work schedule allows me to show up at track meets, and that I have a good friend who doesn’t mind carting my son around when I can’t get there to pick him up myself. I am proud of my kids, for participating in track.  We are blessed to have a home to come back to after long days away, and a washer and dryer and an oven to bake pizza in, and hot water for showers and laundry, and a couch to rest upon.

There is a Karl Rahner poem about Jesus, where Jesus says, “I am the gloom of your daily routine.”  I love that. It acknowledges that daily routines are sometimes rough, that it’s OK to be tired and overwhelmed and, dare we say it, even gloomy at times. The crazy thing is that Jesus is right there in the gloom with us.  All too often, I think he’s outside, looking in, shaking his head and doing deep breathing exercises to control his panic over how I am messing up.  Jesus’ presence with me in the gloom reminds me that everything I need is right here and that love is all around me, even in my ordinary, busy days.

Tomorrow, there will be another drive down the freeway 20 miles to where I work. I will stop on the way to drop my son off at school. Before I go, I will make sandwiches, slice apples and carrots,  pack lunches, clean the cat box, take out the trash.  I will make myself yet another salad for lunch.  I will do a load of laundry and walk the dog. This is my life now, and it’s challenging and beautiful and fills my heart. But here is something that I do not entirely approve of:  it won’t always be this way. Already, my oldest is 17 and dreaming of college. She will be gone in just over a year.  So I wrap my arms around these ordinary days, keep them close to my heart and hold on to Jesus, who is holding on to me, too.