Because Ordinary Time teaches us that holiness is not found only in great achievements.
It is also found in receiving ordinary life gratefully.
Even the quiet grace of becoming wonderfully comfortable at the end of a long week.
The Rev. Donald A. Davidson – Anglican Priest
Anglican Church of Canada
Because Ordinary Time teaches us that holiness is not found only in great achievements.
It is also found in receiving ordinary life gratefully.
Even the quiet grace of becoming wonderfully comfortable at the end of a long week.
Pause for a moment. Sit quietly. Pray simply. Drink your coffee gratefully.
And remember that ordinary mornings may contain far more holiness than we often realize.
Even if coherent thought is still arriving gradually.
So perhaps this Monday, as you move through the ordinary responsibilities of life, take a moment to ask:
What in my life needs watering?
What relationships need attention?What part of my soul has been running dry? Where is God quietly inviting me back into rhythms that give life rather than merely consume it?
Because grace rarely arrives only in dramatic moments. More often, it comes quietly.
So perhaps this Saturday, God’s invitation is wonderfully simple.
Sit for a while.
Watch the water. Listen to the birds. Let creation speak.
And remember that before you were ever productive, successful, efficient, or busy… You were loved.
So perhaps this evening, before immediately launching into the next project or worrying about the unfinished things waiting for Monday…
Pause.
Sit outside for a while. Watch the light soften toward evening. Have supper slowly. Call a friend. Pray.
And let the unfinished list remain unfinished for one blessed evening.
God meets us in the middle of real life.
In the half-finished prayer list. In the distracted morning prayer. In the exhausted evening sigh that barely forms words but still somehow reaches heaven.
Laundry, after all, is an act of stewardship.
It is the quiet work of tending life.
Caring for ourselves. Caring for those we love. Preparing for another ordinary day of living.
And perhaps part of our calling in Ordinary Time is to relearn how to join it.
Not by doing more.
But by paying attention.
The breeze moving through the trees. The absurd confidence of a robin defending territory vastly larger than itself. The smell of cut grass that somehow convinces us we have accomplished something important merely by smelling it.
So if today finds you looking at the spaces around you — the relationships, the interactions, the small, daily encounters that make up your life—and thinking, “This is not entirely tidy…”
Take heart.< You are in the right place. Because this is where growth happens.
And that presence is found not only in extended periods of devotion, but in the quiet, consistent practice of showing up.