Counting…

 

As I was walking back home today I sighed and was glad of it being Friday. Another week done. I was thinking of going home and drawing up a huge chart. On this chart would be blocks to mark off the weeks until May, until August and then in thick broad strokes I would cross them out as week follows week. And as I entertained this happy thought of crossing them off; all these dragging long weeks, I suddenly realized something very important - This Is Not Living. This is something actually quite sad.

Wishing my life away, one week at a time. Is this what has become of my life? Have I learnt nothing? Is any future guaranteed? Is a May or a June guaranteed? An August? 

As I walked back up the hill to get on my train, I spotted some corn in a fruit seller’s store - kind of fresh unpeeled corn at the exuberant price of £1 a cob. Or R21. For 1. Africa will die of starvation in England if they wanted to keep living on corn. And it made me think…5 years ago there was corn growing in my backyard. And lots of it. So much that you could feed a family on it for a year!  And here is a measly single corncob for such a high price…. I should have enjoyed the abundance that I had then, more!

And that is my point. Do I want to count the days in hope of more? Better? Or can I be content and make my days count rather than counting my days? Can I enjoy and see what today brings and not long for another day, another place, another life? To enjoy, wrestle and work through the day where I am placed now. Where God has placed me now. If not I will let Life pass by and all that will stay will be thick red strokes of wasted weeks. 

Contentment is so much more than resigning to my fate. Contentment is Real Living, because nothing is certain but this moment, this day. When I am content I can actually take in the beauty, see a need, fulfill my purpose. 

And so I choose to make my days count and scrapped the idea of counting down time. I want to be in this moment.

Bella