What's next?

The something of which there always is.

    Okay, what happens next? There’s always something happening next. Have you noticed that? It’s been that way all my life.

    Kay and I just had some work done on the living room. We had the walls repainted, new molding put around the ceiling, doors and floors. Speaking of which we also had new flooring put in. It’s been something Kay has wanted to do for years. I’ve been putting it off ‘cause I knew we couldn’t afford it.

    Well, a month or two ago, Kay suggested that WE do the job ourselves. Have you noticed that there is no “I” in we? There’s not even a “me” in we. However, when Kay says the word “we,” it comes out with an “I” and a “me” right in the middle of it. I don’t know how she does it.

    Without arguing I told Kay that I would never paint another room with her… or without her for that matter. There is no “we” in painting. I did tell her that I would seek out the funds to have someone else do all the work. I found ‘em, too. Turns out, our savings account was set aside for the wrong thing. Instead of “Alaskan Cruise” it should have been designated for “Living Room.” 

    We ended up hiring the Dirty Birds Service for the entire job. Dirty Birds is the name that Kirsti Pollard and Theresa Hayes picked for their painting, cleaning, flooring, landscaping, and almost-everything-else business.

They did an absolutely marvelous job. Those two girls made our wish come true. Kay’s wish. Hey, it’s a living room. Now it’s an especially nice looking living room that Kay has long been anticipating. And, it all happened without my direct involvement. Life is good.

At least it was. Last night as Kay and I were sitting in our matching, newly purchased swivel, recliner rockers that took the remainder of our Alaskan Cruise savings, Kay said, “Okay, next we need to work on the study.”

The anticipation of getting a new look for our living room has now become a desire to revamp the study. That’s apparently our new “Next thing.” See? There’s always a next thing.

    I was on my way to school one morning a couple of decades ago when I made myself a promise. It was early October and the school year had just barely started. I had a bunch of papers that I had put off grading, and I had been up late at night working on my lesson plan. As I approached the Tamina/Research Forest Road freeway exit, I told myself that when I retired I was going to get up early one morning and pretend I was headed for school. Only instead of taking my usual exit, I was going to keep driving until I reached the seawall in Galveston.

    That was one of my “Lord-willing” promises. A decade later, God graciously let me make the trip. I wrote an article about the experience and have mentioned it a time or two. One thing I didn’t mention was the fact that as I sat there on the seawall looking at the gulls and pelicans and the sun rise to my far-left, I had a thought that made me feel a bit down. The sense of it all was -- What next, Mark? 

The one thing I had dreamed about for years had happened. I had been allowed to live to see the day, yet, I sat there and wondered – What next?

    It’s been that way forever. Always looking for the next thing. When I was a kid it was Christmas or summer or the annual trip to Bristow, Oklahoma. I don’t know about you, but I’ve lived entirely too much of my life with a “What’s next?” mood. I’ve missed out on a lot of “now” moments doing that.
   
    And, now that I’ve reached this part of my story I’m ready to reveal my “What next” part to the article. Anyone care to guess what it is?  Right, it’s the prayer that Antonio Banderas’ character prayed in the book and the movie, “13th Warrior.”  Okay, stay with me here.

Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan is standing in the mud and the muck behind a tossed together fortress wall. In anticipation of a soon-to-be-fought battle that cannot be won, he removes his sword and his armor; he falls to his knees and he prays:

“Merciful Father, I have squandered my days with plans of many things. This was not among them. But at this moment, I beg only to live the next few minutes well. For all we ought to have thought, and have not thought; all we ought to have said, and have not said; all we ought to have done, and have not done; I pray thee, God, for forgiveness.”

    It’s among my favorite prayers. One I need to keep in mind. Perhaps, you have use of it, too. -- Instead of focusing on life’s next thing, I want to dwell more on living the next few minutes well. -- Next time.

end

Click on picture to see the scene with the prayer

mark@rooftopwriter.com