mundane mondays

today I get to run errands for my job as a personal assistant. I drop of tax papers to bookkeepers and pick up dry cleaning. Then I nanny. Then I make calls at the Seminary for donations. It’s a mundane sort of day.

it’s also a day for apologies. I suppose in a sense, that makes it a more exciting and meaningful kind of day. It’s not bad to start a week out by apologizing and making up. It can be a good start, a way to be refreshed and in a right position before the week starts.

today, with it’s work load and homework load, with the expectation of a late night and the knowledge of a forgotten lunch, well–today is pretty typical of every day.

Somewhere behind me, Nickel Creek is singing about  being a Doubting Thomas. The song wrenches at my heart. It always has. I can remember singing it in the falling autumn leaves of Seattle. But today, it sort of strikes again, in a different place.

You see, in the midst of  my busy-ness, with forgotten lunches and papers, with theological arguments and several jobs to perform for, in the midst of all that, I’ve sort of forgotten some things. I’ve been so stressed lately, in a rather subversive kind of way.

What I mean by subversive is just that I’m not willing to admit it. I sweep things under the rug quite neatly and go merrily on my way! Another late night at the Old Mill? When I haven’t slept in two days? Why not! Aha! You want to argue the divinity and co-eternality of Jesus? Perfect! I’ve been looking for such an argument! That paper can be worked on later!

It’s perfectly lovely, all these things going on.

Except when I get a bit snappy with those who try to love me. Wait, you want me to sit with you? To be quiet and restful? But no! I have things to do, people to see, places to fly to and school work to procrastinate on! I’m the great Sara B— I can do this! I’ve got it under control! You’ll see.

Which is a rather unfortunate view of my finitude. God’s grace and my dependence on his strength.

Ah me, little human, won’t you learn?

So today, in the midst of errands and school work and laughing with new friends, I am starting Advent by apologizing to friends who know me well and have tried so very hard to care for me but simply didn’t know how.

I think that’s a pretty fantastic way to start Advent, honestly. It isn’t fun, no. But it’s a good reminder about the anticipation and need for Advent.

I need Jesus to come and save me from myself.

O Come Thou Rod of Jesse, Free
Thine own from Satan’s tyranny
From depths of Hell, Thy people save
And give them victory o’er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to Thee, O Israel. 

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