At the End of the Day

Have you ever noticed the significance of the common phrase "At the end of the day...."?

'Well, at the end of the day, it all comes down to this....'

'At the end of the day, we still have our health.'

'At the end of the day when all is said and done, this is what I have learned.'

It is a neat and tidy little way to put things in perspective.  It is a neat and tidy little way to draw conclusions, to wrap things up, to prioritize.

I like it.  I think at the end of the day we should all ponder what we have learned, what is important, what we will be carrying with us to the next day.

One of the greatest musicals of all time, Les Miserables, has an 'at the end of the day' moment.  And naturally it is written to music.

"At the end of the day you're another day older." A little pessimistic, but true nonetheless.

Considering the song is sung by the working class, it is permeated with frustration, hopelessness, exhaustion.  And really, at the end of the day I'm tired too, and I worry about the things I have failed to accomplish.

But I would hope that most of the time I cling to another verse that begins:

"At the end of the day there's another day dawning."

We would do well to say: 'perhaps I wasn't able to do all I would have liked, but tomorrow will bring new opportunities, new energy, new minutes and hours.'

I think 'At the end of the day' would be a wonderful theme for a journal (or a blog!). Imagine sitting down (well, you know, at the end of the day) and encapsulating all you have learned because of the day's events.  I think it could be enlightening.  Our days tend to drift and blend together without much to set them apart from one another.  And yet, at the end of the day, each is filled with unique lessons and experiences that may only pass our way once in a lifetime.

I hope that I am taking the time to ponder what I have learned, to ponder the conversations I've had, the people I have encountered, the kindnesses shown, the love expressed.

Because at the end of the day, isn't that what really matters?

My Message in a Bottle

I've just spent the day reading a book from cover to cover.  I rarely do that.  Usually I am conscientious and responsible. Not today.  My dishes are not done.  My bed isn't made.  I am still wearing my workout clothes from this morning's walk.

But.

But I am in a different place now than I was earlier today.  Sometimes I am hampered by despair.  Inexplicable despair.  For-no-good-reason despair.

Sometimes I think I can explain it, or at least partially understand where it comes from.  Today I couldn't.  I needed to do things and yet I was paralyzed.  Not paralyzed by fear.  Paralyzed with the inability to motivate myself. 

I wish it was just laziness.  Truthfully, sometimes it is, but those days are filled with joy and the deliberate choice to play hooky and be lazy.

Knowing that my day was going to be difficult, I picked up a book to hide within. Just a book that happened to be within arm's reach.

I don't know what happened.  Maybe it was the sun on my face coming through the window.  Maybe it was reading about someone with a legitimate reason to want to run away.  Maybe it was grace from a loving Heavenly Father who sent me an important message to "Live."

We must choose, you know.



     "Just before she died, McKale asked me to promise her that I would live."

     She nodded.  "I think we all have to make that choice.  I meet dead people every day at the diner."

     "What do you mean?"

     "People who have given up.  That's all death requires of us, to give up living."

     I wondered if I was one of them.

     "The thing is, the only real sign of life is growth.  And growth requires pain.  So to choose life is to accept pain."



I know that there are people with "real" problems that face the decision to live or give up each day.  And then, of course, that makes me beat myself up for having imaginary problems.  But are they really?  I don't know what things you struggle with, and you don't know what I struggle with, and perhaps it is best if we keep it that way.

The book is called simply, The Walk.  It is by Richard Paul Evans and I found it to be engaging from the first paragraph of the Prologue.  It is elegant in its simplicity.  It captures the universal dream of running away from it all.  Admit it.  You have thought about that at least once in your life, haven't you?

I love my life.  I really do.  I have the freedom to enjoy a variety of pursuits.  I have people who really love me.  They do!  Who can say why, but they do.  I have been blessed with good health, with a sound mind, with a profound relationship with my Savior.

When life gets difficult I simply need to remember to glance upward and see that eternity is my covering, as it was with Patriarch Abraham and Mother Sarah (Abraham 2:16).  They never lost hope, but pushed forward in pursuit of the great blessings they had been promised. I suspect they even had days of discouragement.

Sometimes I wish I could write what I am feeling and send it off in a bottle in the sea.  Then I could be pretty well-assured that no one would ever read it.  It is difficult to send off a blogpost because even though it is nearly as lost in oblivion as that bottle would be, there are a handful who may actually find it and glimpse into my soul.

Treat it kindly, dear reader.  And perhaps take solace in discovering that others can have bad days too.

May we choose to live; to drink in life to its fullest, and remember that the only real sign of life is growth.