Together In This Thing Called Humanity

Original Monday Plan:
• Counseling/Spiritual direction in North Raleigh.
• Lunch in North Raleigh with a friend I hadn’t seen in a year.
• Finish sending out Christmas letters at a coffee shop in Raleigh.
• Dinner in Clayton with a friend I hadn’t seen in five years.

Actual Monday Events:
• My niece’s pre-school performance of The Nutcracker in Raleigh.
• Lunch in North Raleigh with a friend I hadn’t seen in a year.
• Play with my niece and nephew in Raleigh.
• Drive my mom home to Lillington.
• Rush to the Post Office in Lillington before it closes.
• Dinner in Clayton with a friend I hadn’t seen in five years.

As you can see, my Monday didn’t turn out as originally planned; however, it has been a wonderful day—especially after a week of being sick. I’m pretty tired after being out all day, but my extraverted self is happy after lots of human interaction both with family and with friends I hadn’t seen in way too long but that felt just like yesterday being around.

My introverted self is also happy after a few minutes of reflection…the most meaningful of which occurred at the preschool Nutcracker…which…I know is an odd time for introverted reflection but it happened.

While waiting for the show to begin, I looked up and saw Elizabeth Gardner. She, like the other parents in the room, was there to see her child. She may be a weatherwoman who had just come from the television station, but she’s also a real person—a mom who beams at her children when they perform, an onlooker who smiles when she sees something cute, a partner who helps with household chores, a white collar worker who has to pick out her clothes, a family member who gets to buy Christmas presents—a real person—but one that people are often either too star struck to talk to or too star struck to remember that they don’t actually know or vice versa and therefore immediately assume they know her. [I almost called Elizabeth by name and started talking to her like a long lost friend. But. Well. I’m not. Just a weather fan and former teacher who met the weatherperson once at school.]

I quickly realized that I’m glad that I’m not famous…and that I must always remember—with stars and bums and rich people and poor—that we’re all in this thing called humanity together.

Jesus…thank you for coming to live with preschool nutcracker dancers, weatherwomen, and in-between-ministry-ministers alike. Thank you, too, for calling us friend. Amen.