Somewhere in the night I woke to remember I had not written.
The day was full. Ginger and Rachel were driving back from the funerals in Birmingham, I cooked lunch for our UCC clergy group (as I do the first Thursday of every month), other food to deliver, and we had our regular Thursday Night Dinner. As we were cleaning up, I was thinking about what to write. Then the house cleared and Ginger and I had time to talk about the last couple of days and I went to bed without a word.
It’s early the next morning and I am playing catch up, which I do on a regular basis. I will write twice today; you will hear from me again before the day is over. After all, I have promises to keep.
One of our friends started a new job yesterday as a baker. It’s something she has done before, but life had pulled her away from it. A few weeks ago an unexpected opportunity presented itself and now she is back in the kitchen. Yesterday she said, “I feel like I’m getting a second chance to do what I love.”
In the middle of life, which has its share of dead ends, we belong to a God who is all about second chances — and thirds and fourths and twenty-sevenths. I don’t mean that everything gets resolved for everyone and we all ride off into the sunset, or that life necessarily turns out as we hoped it would. My friend got her second chance because another friend said, “Hey, did you know this position is opening up?” and made the connection. Otherwise, she might have missed it.
The stories of Jesus in the gospels are filled with moments where he stopped to stay to someone, “Hey, did you know you had a second chance?” Most of the time, had he not said something life would have blown right on by.
Love gets lived out in the details of our existence: a kind word, an open door, a gentle reminder, an honest engagement, a thoughtful challenge, an enveloping hug. Love also gets lived out when we go looking for second chances for each other: “I saw this and thought of you . . . .”
See you this evening.