Choir Chairs in the Chapel

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Sometimes the week gets away from us, huh?

We set out in one direction only to go about another way because of unexpected events. Or because we misread the directions. Or because we need to go a different route for our own sanityís sake. Either way, sometimes the road we set out on is not the one we end up on.

This week has been a week. As one who really enjoys crossing off things on the Ďto doí list, Iíve done more adding than subtracting. Yesterday especially, from the moment I got to the church to a little before seven, I was on the go. I had intentions of getting a lot done yesterday, like this midweek reflection and some other administration type tasks.

That just didnít or wasnít going to happen. At one point during the day I found myself getting a bit frazzled. I was worrying about how I was not only going to get things done but also if I could keep up with all the added fun. I love meeting with people. I donít love being distracted by my worries when I meet with them. Nothing is so important, administration-wise, to keep me from being in community with the person Iím visiting.

Yesterday, when I had a 20-minute break in my schedule, I did something I had not done since April: sat in our chapel. I turned off my phone (okay, I left it upstairs in my study) and I lit some candles. I sat in one of those beautiful choir chairs gifted to us by Mildred Holland and I watched the flames dance before the crucifix hanging in the chapel.

The air conditioner was blowing but the sun streaming through the beautiful stained glass windows on Ottawa street warmed me. The church was silent. So silent you could probably hear the church mouse. Outside the humidity radiated off the empty streets, but inside, the little lights of the candle illuminated the love of God.

Friends, whatever is before you, you donít have to get it all done now. In fact, you will always have things to do.

Only one question is helpful. What is the next, small step? When you figure it out, take it.

Yesterday the small step for me was to sit silently in our chapel. There were emails to write and phone calls to make, sure. However, what I needed was not on the Ďto doí list. Those few moments of silently sitting and prayerfully listening in the chapel gave me what I needed to get through those last few hours of the day.

Sometimes we need to call an Ďaudible.í Sometimes the tasks on our lists can wait. Sometimes we need to find our way to our favorite chair or park to just be.
Be not afraid to venture off the beaten path of things to do. It might be there you find what youíre really looking for.

[Adam Quine, pastor at First Presbyterian Church in Lincoln.]


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