Between the Edges

"Wait!

Something is waiting

and hidden around the corner of next week,

between the edges of two days."

- Anon.

What are you looking forward to?

An upcoming vacation? A weekend with a wide-open schedule?

A better job? Retirement? Your kids to clean their rooms? Your kids to come for a visit?

Summer?

Sometimes, we don't look forward to next week, rather we dread it's arrival - perhaps it's too many bills piling up like so much dirty laundry, or it's so full of appointments and commitments that the days will march away as dutiful soldiers to General Busyness. I find myself counting the passing of time by Fridays -- paydays. The prize at the end of the week is the chance to pay some bills, buy some food and see what's left to save and spend. Sort of pitiful, I know.

But to wait, in breathless anticipation of a surprise?

We tend to leave that sort of thing up to children counting the days to the next birthday or break from school.

What something could be waiting around the corner of next week? The opportunities are endless -- perhaps that something is as simple as

witnessing a sunset

or a poppy silently bursting onto the scene

or maybe that something is as life-changing as a newborn baby, a Thursday morning miracle of fingers and toes, tears and hope and love? Maybe it's a tragedy, or an opportunity, a reunion or an argument. Something is waiting around the corner of next week, tucked between the edges of two days.

We don't get to know until it arrives, perfectly timed and bundled in the wraps of the life we call human experience. I choose to believe nothing happens by chance and circumstance. I believe that each "something" tucked between the days is essential, meaningful and intentional. But who put it there? And why?

These are the questions that the "somethings" lead toward. These are the questions that we must find when we gaze into the truth that the somethings are the most real evidence we have of a God.

There are many somethings, tucked into the pages of my past, that I'd rather not remember. There are many somethings that seem too insignificant to bother recalling. Then there are the red-letter-days when the things tucked between the unforeseeable future and the past that's irrevocably woven into the tapestry of ME shine out with brilliant flashes of purpose -- the somethings that made all the difference.

If I make it to the middle of next week, if I turn the corner and amble onward a few more days, will I notice the somethings tucked in the edges? Will I look for it? Will I anticipate it's arrival? Will I allow it to become a part of me? Will you?

Let's! Just to see what happens?! Just to feel like and eight-year-old, counting on her fingers to the joy of a long-awaited birthday celebration--and let's open the gift that that "something" may be, and accept it with heart and arms wide open. Let's see what happens.