Today on campus I fill my mug at a water fountain and splash the floor underneath as it overflows. I gaze at the puddle and consider how it would evaporate on its own. Must I clean it? Must I? Maybe I will clean it up.
I waste at least 20 seconds on this dilemma until I imagine someone slipping and injuring themselves because of this spill.
I decide to find a paper towel and mop it up with my shoe; this makes more of a mess than the original puddle. And this consumes another 40 seconds at least. It's starting to dry anyway.
I abandon my cleaning effort after, in total (if you count my thinking about it) a minute.
I continue about my day, and it's like a portal has opened into a new reality: I encounter former students; I find people in the hallway; I have new conversations because I deviated a minute off course of my day.
In this new behind-by-one-minute day, my path intersects people who, a minute before or a minute after, would not be there.
Considering the impact of our little one-minute delays or advances into the day made me wonder about all the permutations available in any given morning. I think about the sovereignty of God and divine appointments. I think of time differently. I think about listening to God to be where I'm supposed to be, when I'm supposed to be there.
It's almost too much to think about.
Heather, I had a similar thought today, minus the puddle! Last week I had to run an impromptu errand on campus that took me off my standard route, and I bumped into a neighbor I haven't seen in months. Today, I took one additional deviation from my perfectly-scheduled routine in an entirely different campus location, and I ran into that very same neighbor!
ReplyDeleteNothing was significant about our brief conversations, but the unlikeliness of it all made me reflect and pray for her. If she was "randomly" brought into my path not just once but twice, then I'm going to take note. :)