Beyond Ordinary

There’s something to be said for routines and rituals, little things that we do automatically, things that need to be done and the doing of them in a particular fashion brings a bit of comfort somehow. Even in our worship, having a certain way of doing things can be helpful, as long as the routine doesn’t become the purpose rather than a means of accomplishing the purpose.

Starting each day off in pretty much the same manner gets us underway without having to spend a lot of time or thought with such things as shaving, showering and brushing our teeth. Routine can be very helpful on the usual morning.

This morning was a little unusual. Nothing to take a picture of or write home about, just slightly different.

Having woken up just before five, I decided to use some of that extra time to start painting the little bathroom downstairs. During my preliminary preparations for said project, I noticed the windowpanes were dusty from the recent work. And maybe from the past couple of years of hiding behind the blinds but that’s beside the point. “It’d be a shame to have fresh paint and dirty windows,” I thought, so I grabbed the Glass Plus and a handful of newspapers. It didn’t take look to make the glass look a lot better.

Stepping back to admire my handiwork, I noticed a large bird streak on the outside of the window. “That won’t do,” I said to myself, grabbed some more papers and headed outside. Soon, that matter had been rectified as well. Of course, with things so pleasingly under way and the kitchen windows being so close by, I decided to do those as well. Then I went back in to do the inside. I’d just finished the cleaning when Randa came downstairs and caught me putting the decor back on the windowsill inside the kitchen.

Now folks, I’ve gotten up early in the morning to milk cows. I’ve gotten up before daybreak to go fishing and I’ve gotten up in the darkness before the dawn to start a long trip. But never in my life have I gotten up at five o’clock to wash windows and I knew that Randa knew that. Standing there in the kitchen with crumpled wads of wet newspaper sitting on the counter beside the glass cleaner, I realized, “There’s no way in the world I’m going to keep her from thinking this is just plain weird.”

And so, I just smiled and asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee, Lovey?”

H. Arnett


About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Blair, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-five years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-one grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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