My mother is famous for reminding those of us who have day jobs that Monday is “a day the Lord has made” and we should rejoice and be glad in it.
Last Monday, it was extra hard to remember.
That day started like every Monday. A little bleary. Slightly full. Yet holding the promise of a fairly decent week ahead. Then, the thirteenth patient of the day in our clinic was my mama. And before the day ended, I was attempting to sleep in a chair by her hospital bed.
I will spare you the unpleasant details that followed. They took my siblings and I on journeys we never expected to take, making decisions we never wanted to make, and ended in an intensive care unit with our mother on a respirator. The one thing she had told us never to allow.
“It’s temporary,” we assured her. “You can get well,” we promised. Then we turned away and shook our heads at one another.
I was pretty sure our promises were empty.
But, I underestimated my mother. And the army of people praying for her. Plus the miracles of modern medicine and the hand of God upon her life.
Today is Monday again. And our mother is taking her second walk around the hospital hallways this morning. She is learning leg exercises from the therapist and forcing herself to take one-more-bite of whatever the kitchen offers so she can gain her strength and go home.
All this only proves that we never know what a Monday will bring. Or any other day, for that matter. And that is why, Dear Reader, it is so important to embrace my mother’s words. Today really is a day the Lord has made. It may be our best. Or it may be our last, at least on this side of the veil.
So, let’s rejoice. And love. And give thanks. And not waste our time on anything less.