How easily we forget, even the really good stuff.

    There are some days when I just wish I had never gotten out of bed. From the time I got up, it seemed that something has gone wrong, on top of something else going wrong. My wife irritated me before an hour of my day had expired. I don’t even know what it was that she said or did, but it just set me off. I tried to not respond meanly, or even angrily. But then something else happened and then another thing, and before I knew it, it was just some little tipping point that set me off. And she happened to be right there to catch the full force of my venom release.

    I felt bad right away, but didn’t know what to do. I left home not long after that, but things just did not improve. It seemed that wherever I went, whatever I did, there was going to be something that would go wrong. I ended up being like a bear with a sore head. I didn’t like how anybody did anything, and I certainly did not like how I was acting. I wouldn’t have wanted to be around me either. But I had no choice, and neither did they. We were just going to have to get through the day and hope that tomorrow would be better.

    I got home that night, after resolving on the way home to do better, to make amends for the morning gone wrong. When I walked in the door, my wife looked at me, and I looked at her. I wasn’t sure how this evening was going to go, but I surely could not stand a repetition of how the whole day had gone. “God! why are some days like this?!”

    “You forgot something this morning.”

    Oh, yeah, the kiss. We made it our daily ritual to kiss each other good-bye as we parted each morning, the same as our habit each night before we went to bed. “Sorry,” I said, and I gave her a peck on the cheek.

    “No, besides that,” she said.

    “What?” I ended up saying a little more sharply that I intended, or even meant.

    She just pointed. She pointed over to the corner. To the mat. The mat rolled up and leaning against the wall in the corner.

    “Oh.” Oh, yes, the mat. She was right. I had forgotten. Forgotten to look at it. Forgotten that it was there. Forgotten to allow it to shape my day.

    It was the mat that once had been my daily home. Then one day, five years ago, I had “a day that I would never forget.” At least that’s what I used to think.

    It was the last day that I lived as a paralytic. It was the day that those crazy friends of mine, Asher, David, Asa, and Levi picked me up, clutching the four corners of my mat, cut through the thatched roof on Jesus’ house and lowered me down on hemp ropes. I was scared to death: that I would fall and break my neck, that Jesus was be really angry for us messing up his roof, that everyone was going to laugh at me, that Jesus really was a fraud and that I would look like an idiot. I didn’t even believe in this guy, but my friends did.

    And apparently that was enough. A man who is awake to see night turn into day may not have believed in “sunrise,” but the reality of belief must give way to the reality of truth. I hadn’t believed that this man Jesus had the power to forgive sins or to provide healing. But the arrogance of that belief was humbled when my legs began to work and I got up and walked. Before I left him, though, he gave me one final instruction: roll up your mat and take it home with you. Since that day it has sat rolled up, there in the corner, a talisman to remind me of Jesus’ power and of my natural response of gratitude.

    That kind of gratitude and recognition of power changes everything about life. As long as I remembered.

    Time passed and some days I forgot to look at the mat. Forgot to remember my blessings. Forgot to remember what Jesus did for me. And on those days … well, they were like today. It’s strange how something so great can just “be forgotten.” But my wise wife reminded me: look into the corner; see the rolled up mat. Remember.

    Remembrance of Jesus’ power. Remembrance of the power of gratefulness framing a day.

    I looked at the mat, remembered, and gave her a kiss.

© March 9, 2013 

     The foregoing is a “midrash” on Mark 2:1-12, in this continuing series of midrashes on the unnamed little people making cameo appearances in the Gospel of Mark. (For definition of midrash, please see January 14, 2103 blog: “An Unexpected Encounter with Jesus”)

 

Mark 2:1-12 Jesus Heals a Paralytic

 When he returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at home. So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door; and he was speaking the word to them. Then some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” Now some of the scribes were sitting there, questioning in their hearts, “Why does this fellow speak in this way? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?” At once Jesus perceived in his spirit that they were discussing these questions among themselves; and he said to them, “Why do you raise such questions in your hearts? Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and take your mat and walk’? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins” —he said to the paralytic— “I say to you, stand up, take your mat and go to your home.” And he stood up, and immediately took the mat and went out before all of them; so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”

 

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