I have long felt this way. When I was a child and we would come back to school after a summer or a holiday, the teachers would ask the class if we had done anything special during our break. No, I couldn’t think of anything. We visited relatives, we camped out, or some of us stayed with another relative to give my mom a break. I mean, there were seven of us children running around. My mom deserved a little respite!
When the other children in class spoke of their breaks, I was surprised when they shared their “special holidays,” time spent with family, their camping trips, or a stay at a relative’s house.(Hey that sounds familiar!) So when my children and I take a weekend excursion, plan a vacation, or work around the house, I don’t think of it in any other way than living in the every day.
The play yard recently erected, although large, is a matter of choice about what is important for my children’s growth. Our trip last summer was simply visiting family - my brother and his wife - who had never met these children before.
Visiting with family is fairly routine, isn’t it? Mine are just slightly farther than a hop, skip and a jump away, though. Anyone who chooses to do these things will find a way to see their plans come to fruition. My late husband used to call it “plannin’ yer bidness.” He made it a point to say it just like that to emphasize the simplicity of it all.
“If you fail to plan, then you plan to fail,” was another one of his borrowed goodies. However, living with the premise that nothing I do is out of the ordinary, I am still surprised to hear that others can identify with what I write.
Even now, many people speak of their wonderful trips abroad and the cities they visited. I’ve been twice and both times I went without my husband, so the special memories are tainted because I missed him. I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t a bucket list item for me. He didn’t travel unless it was west of the Mississippi and to less-populated places than Goliad. Of course, there were two times I dragged him eastward, saw his roots in the family pew in Williamsburg and my roots in the swarm of Slavic and Cornish relatives who remain where we all started two generations ago.
Yes, I’ll admit it, I was born a Yankee, but he found something redeeming in me anyway.
There is really something to be said for a broad perspective, although, I saw a lot of wisdom in my late husband’s country charm. I learned not to care where we were as long as it was together and nothing held meaning when we were apart.
Another gem he used to tell me was how smart I was and I’d pshaw him! He’d say I was because I chose him! Ah, yes, I see it now. Nothing ordinary or plain about that! That would make me something of a genius now, wouldn’t it? (I’m pushing it now.)
Then I realize that I am also a child of the Most High. Being His makes us set apart and there is nothing plain about that.
There are others who have the same footprint, I know, so my family of brothers and sisters has multiplied exponentially. (You are not all getting Christmas gifts!)
In Romans 8:29-30 we read, “For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren. Moreover, whom He predestined, these he also called. Whom He called these he also justified; and whom He justified, He also glorified.”
Hmm, so I am predestined to be called, justified, and glorified. I may think I am plain ole me on the outside, but God has great things out ahead for me. So, my “plain ole” thoughts are moot in God’s eyes. I am praying that I can make my “Daddy” proud while I live in the every day.