Over the years, my mother’s mentioned having a “spirit of rush.” Lately, I have it too.
The day before Thanksgiving, I raced through my to-do list. I checked off the post office, the bank, and hurried to the grocery story. After I shopped, I planned to rush home, cook supper, decorate, clean the bathrooms, and write a blog post.
What to write about?
Thinking busy thoughts, I drove down two rows searching for a parking place. A man standing on the curb caught my attention. He wore khakis, a white shirt, and a brown sweater vest. Probably thirty-something.
He began inching his way across the parking lot. He couldn’t have hurried if he’d wanted to.
Lame in one leg, each step was quite an endeavor, but he never stopped smiling. Clutching the side of his walker, he paused and looked my way.
He had a glow about him–almost heavenly. He held a bouquet of fall flowers wrapped in clear cellophane. The afternoon sunlight glinted off the shiny paper.
Never mind the effort his single purchase must have required. Or the time. He’d bought flowers for someone he loved. Greatly loved, no doubt.
Mesmerized, I waved him on.
Meeting my eyes, he tipped his head toward me. Thank you.
No, thank you!
As I watched him walk away slowly, gratefully, time stood still.
I noticed the magnificent color in the trees–the crisp air scented with chimney smoke.
The man’s contentment had somehow sailed right into my car.
My hurried heart settled down.
He brought Thanksgiving to me–a day early.
Maybe cultivating a spirit of gratitude in all things binds a spirit of rush.
“In everything give thanks….” 1 Thessalonians 5:18 (KJ)
(photo courtesy of all things heart and home.)