tinkling of wind chimes
prayers for patience
on a stormy day
Typical hospital waiting room,
the air heavy with hope and fear.
Sighs in unison; murmuring voices
all speak a common language.
Eyes softened to not embarrass
anyone’s stream of tears;
ears tuned to hear a name called,
praying their own comes soon.
Kin anxious for the verdict,
improvement or decline,
life or death; in this commune
Braydon hit the snooze button twice, but the third time he reached for it, he actually took a long at the clock. “Oh no,” he exclaimed and jumped out of bed.
He rushed into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water, made a dive into and out of the shower, towelled his hair and ran his razor over his stubble. Then he hastily dressed and hurried into the kitchen.
He poured himself a big glass of milk and gulped down a vitamin pill. Then he found his briefcase, popped it open, and threw in a couple of breakfast bars. His wife, Janelle, knowing the routine all too well, stood at the open front door with his jacket in her hand.
Braydon gave her a quick kiss as he grabbed his jacket. Then he stopped to give her a proper hug. He shrugged apologetically. “I’m sure looking forward to retirement, when I won’t have to rush like this every morning.” Janelle smiled and shut the door behind him.
He dashed to the bus stop just as the bus was opening its doors. As he climbed the few steps he felt around in his jacket pocket, dug out his bus pass, and flashed it at the driver. Thankfully there was an empty seat nearby; he flopped down and took a deep breath. The bus pulled away.
Suddenly he sat up in his seat and looked around at his fellow passengers, “Hey, Where’s this bus going?”
In the mad rush of life, promising ourselves peace and relaxation sometime in the future, we may not notice where we’re heading at this moment. There are many roads offered to the traveler today; we need to be sure we’re on the one that will take us where we want to end up.
“Too many people
in too much of a hurry
rushing in too many
directions leading to nowhere
end up with nothing.”
Story retold from a 1976 devotional article
“Right. For the next two months.” His wife looked at the clerk, rolled her eyes and sighed. She’d been checking out jigsaw puzzles at the stationery store next door, now she berated herself for not being here in time to officially protest this purchase.
The clerk who’d rung up the sale sensed an approaching atmospheric disturbance and strolled toward the accessories aisle. She’d be within shouting distance if the customer asked for a refund in a minute or so.
“Dearest,” said the wife in a longsuffering tone. “Remember the last time you changed computer programmes and it took me three weeks to figure it out enough to do our women’s club monthly newsletter? Two months ago you got me this new cell phone with all the bells and whistles, and I still haven’t figured out how to reply to incoming messages.”
“It’s not so hard to figure out. Besides, your old phone was a dinosaur.”
“So is my brain. I’m technologically challenged, remember? You can’t keep throwing new devices and new programmes at me.”
“You have to keep up with the times, dear. You’d still be working with WordPerfect 3.0 if I wouldn’t have upgraded.”
“And Word Perfect 3.0 worked just fine.”
He sighed. She sighed. The marriage counselor standing behind them at the cash register grinned — and pulled his business card out of his shirt pocket.