The Mundane Mystery

This morning I opened my eyes and thought I could hear you singing
You were right where you were when I drifted into a deep dreaming
Thoughts about the day before zip into history
You tell me, “Child, you’re about to dive into a wonderful mystery.”

What could possibly happen? Is every day the same?
Do I not just experience a perpetual game?
Is it like an overused math equation?
A cookie-cutter, cook book, common occasion?

Go to prayer, then to class, at my job say “Mornin’, Mary,”
Grab some grub, exercise, hike to the library
Write a paper, memorize all the books I can carry
After that, Bible study, hang out and make merry

Yes, that’s my plan for this glorious day
Maybe you’re giggling at what I say.
You touch my hand, smirking pleasantly
All at once, my mind floods with creative possibility

What if my roommate shares one of her peculiar dreams
That makes us roar with laughter as loud as screams
While I brush my teeth and slide on my Keds
And make sure my hair doesn’t look like dreds

What if someone prays out loud a prayer that makes me smile
Or a faith-building statement I haven’t heard in a while?
I could pray for my youth pastor who moved to Uganda
And that you’d provide money for my friend to fix their Honda

What if the guy in my class sees I’m not a religious bigot
Just because I wear a Jesus shirt and people don’t dig it
If his realization strikes a conversation
I’d speak with love and truth, not condemnation

What if in the library while studying Spanish numerals
I listen to my iPod, maybe Lecrae or Josh Garrels
And I stop to think about the meaningful lyrics
To rid my mind of the chaotic thought mix

What if I decide to sit on the back steps of Pogue
To read those ancient words you wrote
Would I feel you close to me?
Holding me and whispering gently?

Would I melt right there in your holy presence?
Would I get the feeling of spontaneous effervescence?
Could I picture your heavenly face and feel the holes in your hands?
Would I realize through my tears that you are all my heart demands?

What if I got up and walked on to the next event of the day?
Would I still carry that same presence anyway?
Could I pray for people and see them healed?
Could you use these hands, these actions, these words to have your truth revealed?

What if people wondered about the mysterious splendor
That you put inside my heart when I chose to surrender?
Would they walk right past
Or would they approach me and ask?

I realize you have something more in mind
Than this attitude of the mundane that makes me blind
You already planned today
So now I want to go your way

This is the day the Lord has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it.
Psalm 118:24