A MOST UNUSUAL DAY

(New thoughts are added three or four times each week)

He could not explain the feeling. Two words “relevant antiquity” rose up in his consciousness. What in heavens name does that mean? He was not a man given to deep thought.

He wore his forty six years like a badge of honor, not happy with the slight bulge in his mid-section or the beginning of baldness that kept increasing the size of his forehead. He wore glasses for reading and should have worn them for driving. His vision of traffic was as if he were looking through the bottom of a coke bottle. “God”, and he always felt a sense of reverence at the word, “didn’t do me just right in the vision department.”

“The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!" He had not meant to be philosophical or theological in his thought. Four more words appeared on the front of his thinking “eternity is an always.”

His breakfast was a monument to habit that never varied. One egg, one cup of coffee, one piece of toast with minimal butter and marmalade. If he varied from this chosen path with two spicy sausages he was never happy with the results. “Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” What was his mind doing to him? He looked skyward, heavenward was his actual consideration. He saw nothing, found no answer. He felt strangely at peace.

Traffic became each day more and more a battlefield and his one-acre of lawn a challenge. If someone had asked him if he was happy he would have replied, “What do you think?” or “Are you trying to be my shrink?”

During the early years of his marriage the sun had shined brightly. Most recently storm clouds hovered or hurried from the horizon more often than he would like to remember. “I am come that you might have peace and that you might have it more abundantly.” He momentarily thought it was the Lord having a personal conversation with him, a rehashing of an old truth. I must be losing my mind. I didn’t initiate any such conversation.

Another long day lay ahead of him. He was terribly weary. He had not slept well. His wife greeted him with a smile and a voice as sweet as the syrup offered for pancakes that sat steaming and ready before him. “What’s this for?” he asked, wary to say the least.

“This is for the pancakes,” she answered. “You’ve been looking tired lately and I thought I would get up a little earlier and fix you something special.” In a state of shock he downed four pancakes, one brimming glass of orange juice and on leaving kissed her goodbye with extra gusto. As he left he called back “Have a nice day darling,” At that moment, even the angels in heaven knew there was something remarkable about this day. “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?” The sun was hardly more than tree high on the horizon and he was remembering old Sunday school lessons or they were remembering him, or both. He shook his head to clear it or something.

As he turned the key the starter on his car made a telltale “karump” in slow motion and then no “karump” at all. The battery had been in its death throes for several weeks now and it had picked this morning for its final demise. And then it happened, or did not happen, however it should be looked at. He did not rave and rant, as he would most normally have done. Instead, he calmly walked back in, called the nearest Auto Shop and was assured that help would soon be on its way. “Must be getting old, can’t even get a good mad on anymore!” As a kind of overlay another thought captured his attention, “God’s in His heavens and all is right with the world.”

An hour and ten minutes later he found himself in the mornings traffic jam. But something was missing. No one seemed to be blasting on their horns. What is happening? It was not so much a question as an observation. It mingled with words that now had a voice behind them, “…I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven.”

Just ahead as the light turned green a elderly lady stepped in front of his car and slowly began to cross the street. A cacophony of impatience should have happened. It didn’t. Everyone just waited. Not even a single toot from cars way back in line.

The rest of the journey was as it had been all morning. The slow cars stayed on the right. Those in more of a hurry stayed on the left. No one exceeded the speed limit. The morning was brighter than he could ever remember. No, bright was not the word, but he could think of no other word to properly describe it.

Three blocks from the bridge the stop light was out and not a policeman in sight, but by a kind of silent agreement, the cars from the west would proceed for one minute, and then the cars from the south would move ahead for the same period of time. He shook his head several times to see if maybe it wasn’t all a dream.

Since he was so late for work he expected a major confrontation with his manager, a particularly obnoxious individual who majored in vituperation. A long standing joke was that he was the re-incarnation of Scrooge himself.” “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.” The pages of the Bible seemed to be turning back and forth along the avenues of his brain. It made no sense. It made all the sense in the world. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?”

“Good morning, Mr. Longworthy, sorry to see you late. Have any trouble?” He looked close to see the familiar sarcastic turn of mouth, but it was not there. “Never mind,” the manager continued, “A man who’s not been late in heaven knows how long should certainly be allowed one morning. Am I not right?” He was speechless. He simply shook his head.

“By the way,” the manager continued,” here’s a rush order and I’d appreciate it if you’d get this out ahead of all the other stuff. I know you’ve been overworked lately and I’ll see if I can’t send my secretary over to help you catch up.”

During lunch, he closeted himself in his favorite booth in a local eatery and began to read the morning paper. The first page was a revelation. There was not one murder or assault and battery to be found. There were no accidents on the highway. There were no rapes or robberies.

In the upper left hand corner of the front page was the headline, “Black Cobras go to work on Slums.” The story read, “The Black Cobras, until recently a gang which has been terrorizing it’s neighborhood have organized themselves into Help Battalions. Armed with paint brushes, hammers and nails, instead of guns and switch blades, they are knocking on doors and telling people, ‘We want to make where we all live a place to be proud of. We’d welcome your helping us.” “Be careful not to do your ‘acts of righteousness before men, to be seen by them.” And somehow he knew there was no worry here, his only worry being why he had turned into this constant quoting of scripture or scripture being quoted at him.

On the evening news it was reported that something was happening that could not be explained. “There is a contentment in the air,” said one newscaster. He seemed ready to say something else. Instead he cut to a commercial.

It was further reported that every war that had been in progress had come to a halt, the politicians had stopped posturing and had sat down and were bending over backwards to be fair and unprejudiced in their responses. All soldiers on all sides had been issued orders to lay down their arms. A growing number of CEO’s were asking that their salaries be decreased and the monies used to forestall a number of instances where layoffs would otherwise take place. “Enter through the narrow gate, for wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” These were the opening words to every editorial across America. It was like some giant force of good had captured each editors thought and…no one even tried to explain it.

Mr. Longworthy pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. All it produced was a rather loud and punctuated “ouch .“ “…everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on a rock.” He was filled with such overwhelming goodwill he almost wept.

As he left the office he called out, “Good night everybody, have a safe trip home.” What’s wrong with me? He thought to himself. I usually leave as grumpy as an old bear.

As he picked up his car in the parking lot the attendant gave him a note with a name and address on it. “Some teen-ager scraped you fender this afternoon as he backed out. He said call him and the two of you could work it out. He said he has no insurance but he’ll pay whatever repairs cost by working at his after school job a little longer.” “…everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand.”

His wife met him at the door with a big smile and hefty hug, “Mr. Nicholson down the street just called. He noticed you ran out of paint just as you were about to finish the fence. He says he has just a little of the same kind left, and you are welcome to it if you want it.”

“Will wonders never cease,” thought Mr. Longworthy. “Mr. Nicholson hasn’t spoken to me for six months. Ever since someone told him I thought he used poor judgement in buying that property out in the boondocks.” Like a giant heavenly email his mind continued to receive the same kind of messages. Without ceasing! Without ceasing!

He wondered if others were receiving messages that were as relevant to the days particular challenges as the ones he had received. Another message was coming through. “I say to you to have no limit to the times you forgive, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.”

He unrolled the evening paper to see if there were any more bits of astounding news. And there it was. BIG BLACK BOLD HEAD LINES: JESUS CHRIST SPEAKS TO THE WORLD. “Almost 2000 years ago, Jesus Christ spoke to the world about a better way of being. “Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and all thy soul, and all thy mind, and love thy neighbor as thyself.” In an unprecedented world report millions have suddenly began to put these words into practice, experienced their content in a way no one seems able to explain.

By a kind of unbelievable coincidence or imprint of majesty newspaper across the world were writing editorials and reporting news of almost equal content.

And at the top of every page…only four words in 72 point fonts A MOST UNUSUAL DAY.

(For more pithy prose check my new ONE A DAY, YOUR SPIRITUAL VITAMINS http://oneadayyourspiritualvitamins.blogspot.com/)