Some denominations mark the calendar’s mid-year season as Ordinary Time. It’s my favorite part of the church year. Nothing is going on that requires special services, no major feast days to celebrate, no holidays enhanced with extra study groups, decorations and confusion. It’s as if we are just being encouraged to relax and enjoy the wonders of creation, the bounty of crops, and watch the critters that were cute babies a few months ago grow toward adulthood.
Ordinary Time has its changes, of course. Change is the one constant in life, but this time of year the changes are often predictable. Harvest is on the horizon. Sports are the subject of much discussion, and some of us look forward to crisp nights under the lights and packing along a blanket to soften the hours on hard bleachers.
Seasonal treats get showered on us all at once. We haven’t had to wonder what vegetables to serve since corn got ready, and there’s a good supply in the freezer for winter. Cucumbers set on quickly and it becomes a problem how to use them up fast enough. I refuse to make pickles; been there, done that, for too many years. A BLT is the go-to plan for quick suppers. The box of pears we got is ripening faster than we can eat, so we gave some away. Peaches arrived, and seem to be ready all at once too, but extras will go in the freezer.
We didn’t raise any carrots or potatoes so at least we won’t be hauling buckets of sand in to bury them and storing them in the garage for later.
Before long, Bruce will call the orchard to inquire about apples for eating and making his famous apple butter. We are down to the last jar of that and a winter without apple butter for breakfast just can’t happen.
The best thing about Ordinary Time is that we can pretty much set our own agendas. There are probably some folks who get bored with the lack of exciting events and activities this time of year, but I recommend we relish the sameness. The drama and adrenaline rush of busy times will arrive, as it always does. Soon enough we’ll be complaining about feeling overwhelmed.
Remember how, when you were laid up with a broken leg or down with a flu bug, you thought back to when you felt good and could do the ordinary routines easily? You wished to have that time back and vowed to appreciate it when it happens. And then you forgot to be grateful when the ordinary returned. Don’t worry, that happens to all of us. Just try to take a moment when you start an ordinary day and say thanks. I know someone who, when asked, “How are you?” says, “Highly favored and greatly blessed.” That’s probably a man who has learned to appreciate the ordinary.
Meet me here next week and meanwhile, do your best. Somebody might like it.