Blissfully Boring

Have you ever thought about how wonderful the very normal days are?

The ones where nothing out of the blue happens and the mundane is in your face. Maybe all you have going for you is that your marriage is a happy one and you love your work and your friends. Maybe you just have a dog that you take for walks and one day you might buy a surf board and go and live by the sea. Could it be that you live in a little cottage and you have a friendly neighbour and lots of thriving pot plants? Perhaps you have a few energetic children and you all sit, peacefully, around the table together for meals. You might be the fellow who works nine till five in an honest job and once a week you tie flies with the guys for your next fishing trip. I don’t know who you are or where you live or what your unique set up in life is. I don’t know what makes you tick or what it is you do that makes you come alive, but I know this:

ordinary days are the most precious days for us all; and they are not ordinary at all.

A lot of the time we aren’t aware of it until something occurs to reveal the stark contrast of what is and what could be. In a moment we see things from a different perspective and suddenly what we were thinking was just bog-standard is seen for the top-notch quality that it actually is.

Once, a bomb went off not far from where we were living and the building our friend lived in was blown up. We looked at the footage on the news in horror and disbelief. He wasn’t answering his phone, there wasn’t even signal. Surely we are dreaming. We weren’t. Our gorgeous, unassuming day had turned into a nightmare and our friend never did answer his phone again.

Another time, my children were playing outside and getting ready for a bike ride. I could hear them chattering and laughing from where I was in the house when a freak accident occurred. Suddenly, the slowness of our lovely little life in the countryside was pierced with screams and blood and a race to the hospital that still astounds us all. Everything turned out well, please don’t worry about it, it was a long time ago and we don’t even think about it anymore. On that day, however, I would have done anything to have been able to rewind and to have truly felt the weight of how incredible our nothing-to-write-home-about day actually was.

Another time, I stayed awake most of the night praying for a loved one going through surgery. I have a practise of putting the ones I love into God’s hands, and for the most part it keeps me calm even though I am the mother of sons who do crazy things. On that long, dark night, however, my insides were on high alert, not only for the patient but for everyone who loves him. How much I adore him was suddenly in sharp focus. Nothing else mattered except kissing his forehead in the morning and seeing him smile and listening to his jokes and getting his advice and designing things together with him again. Whatever was concerning me before that night was suddenly of no consequence. Surgeons and their knives helped me see, with absolute clarity, what actually counts: God and people and my love for them and their love for me. That’s what’s on people’s minds on their death beds, apparently, and so it should probably be on our minds a whole lot more whilst we are fully alive!

Let’s not despise small beginnings. Why don’t we quit comparing our ‘average’ days with the ‘magnificent’ ones that other people have. We should never forget that good health and friendships and simple meals and the risen sun and adequate rainfall and work satisfaction and times of peace are not things to be overlooked. We are not entitled to any of it.

Who cares if we aren’t celebrities or don’t have a fat bank balance or that our teeth are crooked and we got a C for maths. So what if our car is dented and the house is not a designer one. Does it really matter that the cat sometimes vomits on the bath mat? That’s no average life, that is one that has no measure and no price. Next time you find yourself wondering ‘is this all there is to life?’ catch yourself quickly. You could have a whole lot more or a whole lot less and find yourself longing for exactly what you have right now. We have so much to be thankful for. I am a fan of boring days where not a bomb goes off, not a drop of blood falls and nobody is spending the night away from home against their wishes.