Most ordinary of days

A prose poem for "Ordinary Time"

by Ken Sehested

There are, to be sure, moments of high drama in the work of holy obedience:
      marches to be made, confrontations to be staged, dangers to be endured,
      corruption to be exposed, trips made to distant or unfamiliar places,
      occasional rackets to be raised, maybe even jail cells to be filled.

On rare occasions, the whole world is watching.

Much more often, the storyline of faith is lived without notoriety,
is forged without fanfare:
      in familiar places, in small acts of courage resisting petty tyrants,
      with commonplace forbearance in the midst of garden-variety stress.

Much more often faith is mapped by intersections with family and friends
      and neighbors and co-workers, in traffic lanes and grocery store lines,
      with tired children and harried partners.

All the while—like crack to the addict, drink to the drunk—the bread of
      anxious toil seduces with its illusory bliss.

To be sure, dragons need to be slain. Much more often, though, gardens
      need to be groomed, young ones tutored and old ones cherished,
      watersheds protected, hobbled ones freed, and civility practiced.

Mostly it’s these thousand million little things, the minute particulars that,
      strand-by-strand, are needed to reweave life’s shapely, sturdy fabric.

For these, persevering patience is more imperative than conspicuous daring.
For these, tireless collaboration is more important than personal heroism.

Give thanks and praise in these most ordinary of days.

Inspired by Galatians 5:19-26
©ken sehested @