The gym parking lot is fairly desolate when I arrive at 5:30 a.m. Yet, there is the faithful Mr. Back-In--an older, station wagon-like vehicle whose owner feels the need to back into the same parking spot nearly every weekday morning as most of the world slumbers.
Why, I ask you? What is the intrinsic value of leaving your parking spot three seconds sooner because you didn't have you worry about throwing the car into reverse and looking out for old ladies inching across the asphalt on their way to Pilates? I must know, I seek help to understand. Yet, the driver never appears...it is only the mysterious vehicle, eerily reminiscent of Stephen King's Christine...
These are things that puzzle me on the way to a good sweat.
Fast forward a couple of hours later this same Monday morning, and I'm in six lanes of traffic on U.S. 1. I'm unlucky enough to be behind the school bus that insists on stopping every quarter-mile on an incredibly busy road in order to gather children for FCAT-land. As I sit and glance about me at the sea of humanity--a lady gabbing on her cell phone, a dude eying his nose hairs in the rear view mirror--my radio is tuned to a local Christian station and Chris Tomlin is proclaiming,"How Great Is Our God," over and over.
Time sort of slowed down for a moment. Stuck in traffic, cell phones and nose hairs all around, somewhere across town Mr. Back-In with his car in drive, seeking to shave off a few seconds in order to add to a few goals, perhaps. How God Is Our God. Children on the way to school, a mixture of apathy, anticipation and nerves. How Great is our God.
I'm in my dry-cleaned shirt and dry-cleaned pants. My shoes, as usual, haven't had much of a shine in a while. The school bus finally begins to move. How Great Is Our God. I'm within striking distance of the office, where I'll mobilize whatever gifts and talents I have today for the sake of moving the needle in some positive direction. How Great Is Our God.
Why do we do the things we do? Do we think about where the things we do are taking us?
In the midst of all of it, the activity both intentional and routine, How Great Is Our God.
How do you recognize the voice of God in the seemingly inconsequential, everyday moments of mundane activity?