What Do You Make of This?

"The sense of our duty is only realized by our sense of the heroic" -- Oswald.

Every morning before my feet hit the floor I need to remind myself that I owe Christ my life. Maybe this is the idea behind the Catholic crucifix. Maybe it is too easy to forget the price he paid. However, while I cringe to admit it, not even a mental picture of his excruciating death on the cross automatically softens my hard heart. Perhaps it is the onslaught of stories and images that bombard my senses every day or perhaps it is the protective layer of cynicism with which I have wrapped my innermost self. Whichever the case, my heart is not easily moved. Still, simple things sneak up on me on occasion, and it is these simple things with which I need to confront myself each morning.

He knows the number of hairs on my head. He collects my tears. He is paying attention to my life -- my fears, my pain, my joys. He cares about the things I care about -- my children, my husband, my church, my friends, the homeless men, women and children in the shelters of the Union Gospel Mission, the words I write, the thoughts in my head. He knows them, sees them, hears them.

"It is far easier to die than to lay down the life day in and day out with the sense of the high calling" -- Oswald.

I can lay down my right to my life -- today, in this moment -- for Someone who is paying such close attention. I can gently, carefully, set aside my dreams, my hopes, and pay attention to his plan. I can look for ways to be part of what he wants for my little corner of the world.

"We are not made for brilliant moments, but we have to walk in the light of them in ordinary ways" -- Oswald.

I keep thinking of Tolkien's Frodo in connection with today's reading. The majority of his quest to destroy the one ring was made up of less-than-brilliant moments -- putting on the ring at the wrong moments, snapping at Sam, getting stabbed by one of the Dark Riders and cocooned by the great spider, Shelob, falling under Gollum's spell, wearily trudging on day after day through hunger and cold and lack of all the creature comforts of which hobbits are so fond. And when, finally, the brilliant moment was within his grasp -- he stood above the fires of Mordor, his quest nearly at an end, all of Middle Earth depending on him -- he failed. The creature Gollum accomplished the final goal by biting off Frodo's finger and accidentally falling into the fiery pit below. Frodo was not made for the brilliant moment, but he undertook the journey and continued day after day in light of it.

I am made for the stuff of everyday life, but I can only continue day in and day out in light of the Brilliant Moments. He gave his life for me, and I must give my life for him.