School had a two hour delay this week because of the snow "storm" that hit Georgia. Most teachers would be more excited about this than the kids. My co-workers all hopped back into their nice warm beds and grabbed some extra sleep. Unfortunately, my husband & I live out in the boonies where cell phone reception is sparse at best. As we pulled out of our driveway, fully awake and fully dressed, my cell phone blipped. There it was: "Two hour delay." Sent 40 minutes ago.
I was frustrated. Not frustrated that I couldn't go back to bed. Not frustrated that I now had two hours to fill and nothing to do. Frustrated that my lesson plans would be thrown off. I plan my lessons one to two weeks in advance. I like to know what's coming and where we're going at all times. I enjoy routine and schedules, and when that schedule is thrown off, I do not cope well.
It's at times like this that I wonder how my poor husband puts up with me. The first words out of his mouth were, "How about we go into town and get some coffee and bagels?" My reaction? Negativity. How could I possibly enjoy coffee and bagels with the love of my life when my routine had been changed? Make the best out of a bad situation? How could that possibly be my first reaction? He tried again. It took three tries before I begrudgingly agreed to spend our two hours together, sipping coffee.
We walked into the coffee shop, inhaling the warm, welcoming fragrance of freshly ground coffee beans. We were the only patrons. What else is to be expected at 7:45 a.m. when the mountains of northeast Georgia have seen an inch of snow and ice?
Jon had brought Scrabble. My favorite. Yet in my stubbornness, I was still determined to show why this was the worst possible outcome for my day. Isn't that how it always goes? When something goes wrong, our first instinct is focus on self. How will this effect ME? MY day? MY plans?
It's disgusting, really. And even recounting it here makes me feel ill. Why is that? Why is it that we can sing all the right songs, read all the right verses, say all the right things, but when push comes to shove, when the rubber hits the road, when we have to put our money where our mouths are, we fall, and we fall hard.
All that I was missing was my first period class that snowy, icy morning, sipping coffee with my soulmate. The solution turned out to be me typing up the notes for each student, and we were able to move right along. On schedule. No delays. No worries. Definitely not worth the time I spent speaking negativity.
So how did I make the leap from snowpocalypse to serenity? Somewhere in-between the vanilla chai and playing "zaps" for 45 points. As I listened to the soft, acoustic, slightly-hipster worship music, sipped my chai, and watched the most amazing man I could ever have asked for knit his brows in concentration over a Scrabble game.
The sun gradually came up outside, dazzling the pure white snow into an unparalleled glory. My anger and frustration melted away, my brain finally basking in the glory of this moment: sip by sip, play by play, minute by minute.
Who knows how many precious minutes we have on this earth? And when all is said and done, who will care one iota if my first period class got to see my PowerPoint on ancient Greek theater? They sure don't. But, and I pray God gives me enough years to make this so, when I am old and gray, maybe, just maybe, I'll look back at that morning: remember the sips of coffee, the strum of the guitar, the glow of the light, the shine of the snow, the love of a husband.
Isn't that just what Jesus was all about? Pulling people from their schedules. Pulling them from their routines. Their safety zones. Their plans. "As Jesus went on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax collector’s booth. “Follow me,” he told him, and Matthew got up and followed him" (Matthew 9:9). I'm sure Matthew had a schedule that day. He had taxes to calculate. Meetings to hold. Money to make. A job to do. But Jesus called him to something better. Sweeter. And Matthew simply got up and left. Left his job. Left his schedule. Left his plans. For something better. For the Master.
I would love to know Matthew's thoughts at that moment. Unfortunately, the Bible leaves it to our imagination. Did Matthew question what he was doing? Was it an old-fashioned kick in the pants by the Holy Spirit? Did he wonder who would take over his client list? Reschedule the meetings? Or did he just go? Freely. Joyfully.
Oh, Lord, let it be so with me. Next time, please don't let me waste even seconds of the time entrusted to me. Time with the ones I love. Time to rejoice. Time to serve You. Time to relax. Time to just be.
Be still. While the music plays. While the game plays on. While the time ticks by. Be still.
And know.
