Escape the Ordinary

Loss is so far reaching.  I am finding my days take on a muddled hue of deep gray; nothing particularly good or bad to differentiate them. 

I saw a billboard driving home today for a company that sells property in northern Minnesota and Wisconsin.  Their slogan across the advertisement invites and encourages the driver to “Escape the Ordinary”.  The sign catches my attention in a way contrary to what I am guessing it was designed to do.  I am attracted to the word escape.  I fight with the word ordinary.  I want to escape back to ordinary rather than run away from it. 

This is not an easy concept.  It is natural to want a break from the mundane, the routine, and the schedule.  It is something we look forward to; a vacation, a weekend away, a night out.  Maybe we become a bit bored with the ordinary because we aren’t content with who we are, what we are doing, and where we are at.  We want more.  And I don’t believe this is necessarily a bad thing.  The desire we possess for more, is a God given drive to develop ourselves and enrich our lives along with those around us. 

Thus, the conclusion I am beginning to make is not related to how we challenge ourselves to grow, rather that we are content with what we are given in the moment of that challenge; that we accept our need to change rather than escape it.  Even if it is difficult, can we be content with the idea that this is how we learn?  Can we be content with the ordinary? Can we be thankful for our commonplace?  Is it true that sometimes less is more?   Does God give us blessings in the regular, normal, everyday, usual places of our lives? Or do we only look for miracles on a grander scale?   

I am finding that after death has touched the closer side of my life, it is the small, intricate, ordinary things that I miss most.  And it is in the customary moments – the typical movements of living where I beginning to see the profound.  Even when things do not go as planned -when we have a disagreement with a spouse or close friend, or we feel overwhelmed with raising our kids or completing an assignment at work – I see God moving.  He is using these natural, normal, typical events to make us who we are and who we are to become. 

During the Easter service, I was consumed by what I miss from my
everyday life with Shawn.  I jotted down notes in hopes to write more
later.  Here are my unedited thoughts:


I miss you in the simple things.  I miss you when my eyes open in the
morning and I look to find your eyes watching mine.  I miss your hand
to hold and smoothing mine over yours to let you know I care.  I miss
you in the quiet nights when everyone else is sleeping, when I should
be sleeping, when life is still and I want to hear your voice as a
conclusion to my day – this is when I miss you. 

I miss you when the
air is warm and I want to go for a walk in the dark. I miss taking our
kids to the park or for a hike.  I miss how you challenged me to do
more than I thought I could do by myself.  I miss driving places with
you and how you always got us there on time.  I miss finding places
with you and how you always knew your way around.  I miss the
lighter side of life.  The side where I didn’t cry each day.  The side
where I could hear you laugh.

I miss you in the lonely times.  I miss you when the house is still and
you should be at work and I should be waiting up for you.  I call your
voice mail just to hear your solid confidence in line with your
even gentleness.  I miss all of you – parts I never knew – parts I had yet
to discover – parts to love and get to know. 

This is how much I miss you – I wish I could change the day you died.
I wish I could erase that frightful evening.  I wish I could escape the
consequences of one man’s choice.  I wish I could take the hate that
killed you and speak love in its place.  I wish I could save you. I
wish love had more power.
I miss you in such
ordinary ways. 


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