There is a particular kind of spirituality that belongs exclusively to Monday morning.
It is not lofty.
It is not especially poetic.
And it rarely involves stained glass.
It usually begins somewhere between the alarm clock and the coffee maker.
Now, there are those rare and remarkable individuals who greet Monday with enthusiasm, clarity, and a fully formed sense of purpose.
I have met two of them.
Briefly.
The rest of us tend to approach Monday with a quieter, more cautious faith — one that says, “Lord, I believe… but perhaps after this first cup of coffee.”
And it is precisely here, in this slightly under-caffeinated state of grace, that the truth of the Ascension meets us.
Because being “sent into all the world” sounds magnificent when we say it on a Sunday.
It sounds considerably more demanding when it arrives on a Monday.
Especially when “all the world” includes:
• A schedule that already looks fuller than we remember agreeing to
• A list of tasks that has mysteriously multiplied overnight
• And at least one conversation we have been quietly hoping might resolve itself without our direct involvement
And yet…
This is exactly where we are sent.
Not to some distant and exotic location (though God does occasionally do that sort of thing), but into the very places we already inhabit.
The disciples, after the Ascension, did not immediately set off with detailed itineraries and matching luggage.
They waited.
They prayed.
They gathered.
And then, slowly and steadily, they began to live as people who had been entrusted with something extraordinary.
Which is perhaps the most helpful way to understand being “sent.”
It is not about adding something new to our lives.
It is about seeing our lives differently.
The conversation becomes an opportunity for grace.
The interruption becomes an invitation to patience.
The ordinary task becomes a place where love can quietly take shape.
Even the Monday morning coffee — blessed and necessary as it is — becomes, in its own small way, part of the rhythm of a life lived with intention.
Because the Ascended Christ has not sent us out to do extraordinary things in extraordinary places.
He has sent us to be faithful in the places we already are.
Which, if we are honest, is both comforting and slightly inconvenient.
Comforting, because we do not need to wait for the perfect moment to begin.
Inconvenient, because the moment to begin is almost always now.
So if this Monday finds you moving a little slowly…
If your sense of purpose feels just slightly behind your first cup of coffee…
If your plans for the day feel more practical than profound…
Take heart.
You are still sent.
Sent into your work.
Sent into your conversations.
Sent into the quiet, unnoticed spaces where grace does its most remarkable work.
And the good news is this:
The One who sends you is already there.
Waiting not for perfection…
But for presence.
So take a breath.
Take another sip of coffee.
And step into the day — not as someone merely getting through Monday…
…but as someone sent into it.
Alleluia.
Companion Prayer
Lord of every day,
You meet us in the ordinary
and send us into the world.
In the busyness and the quiet,
in the tasks and the interruptions,
help us to recognize your presence.
Give us patience in small moments,
grace in our conversations,
and faithfulness in all we do.
And as we go through this day,
remind us that we are sent —
not alone,
but with you beside us.
Amen.