The two chairs by the elevator offered a place of rest. As pristine as each chair looked, I am sure they had been used on more than one occasion. I waited and wondered what it would be like to rest and wait. It was dark and relatively quiet. As I considered my choices, I realised I was sure I would drift off to sleep if I sat down. The design purpose was clear. Offer the weary an invitation to sit, rest, and recover as the first experience in this home away from home. Accepted or not, putting the offer out in front was an important priority in welcoming visitors.
Gifts, especially ones of rest and restoration, change me from the inside out. I cannot ignore the experience as if nothing happened. Even invitations leave their mark. The knowledge and experience within dominate my thinking and response. It feels as if my heart and mind have changed without any action on my part. As today begins, I think of the two seats welcoming me with no conditions.
Life offers to restore us with hope if we give her time. It seems so simple, and yet I often ignore or, even more directly, decline the gift. Time reminds me of my lost opportunities to share my burden along the way. Each gift was unique. Once lost, it can no longer be found. The follow-on experience has been captured by writers before me; “If then they turn their backs on it, washing their hands of the whole thing, well, they can’t start over as if nothing happened. That’s impossible. Why, they’ve re-crucified Jesus! They’ve repudiated him in public!” (Hebrews 6.6)
Life offers opportunities. Everyone has them. There are no qualifications or exclusions. I may have failed repeatedly and consistently. Life, with full knowledge of my history, will gift me with an opportunity to be kind and caring today. They will come in many different shapes and sizes. Some I will recognise at the time, others I will only see in hindsight.
Life is found in the moment I have.
