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This Day

Jul 15, 2010



You know how there’s
one elementary teacher that makes a mark on you that lasts forever?
Long after you’re out of school and thrust into the throngs of life,
there’s something he or she did that sticks with you, no matter what path
your life follows.

Honestly, I’ve got a few of those, but none more
special to me than Mrs. Hall. She taught the 6th grade at Brook Hollow
Christian School in DeSoto, Texas. She was the teacher every single
student couldn’t wait to have – and when it was finally my turn, I was not
disappointed. She left an indelible imprint on my life (not the least
of which may have been the imprint she made on my backside when I had to
be paddled for misbehavior. Yes. . . I was “that” student). It’s
been my joy not only to have been taught by her, but to still call her
my friend. She lives about 3 minutes from me and I make it my business
to stay connected with this wonderful woman whose gift of teaching has
not waned one bit through the years.

You see, she’s still teaching me. There’s just no chalk board or report
cards connected with the lessons. And yet, they still come. Yesterday, she sent me this email.. . to encourage me as I journeyed
through my day. I thought I’d share it with you.

Thank you, Mrs. Hall.
I love you.

This Day – by Connie Hall
If this day was not quite what you wanted
Fell short of morning’s expectation,
Take thought in this ever-present truth,
There will be another.
Another day like this one,
Ever twined with the great and less good
Having always with it that portal to enter
To make of it all God wants it to be.
If your day was filled with joys pleasant
Beyond what morning dared to dream,
Be assured with full knowledge,
There will be another.
Another day like this one,
Ever twined with the great and less good,
But always with the cautious heart,
Lest it be less than what was yearned for.
If this day bore unexpected grief,
The worst of what could have been,
Lean solidly on your Lord, but know,
There will be another.
Another day like this one
Ever twined with the great and less good
It is the common thread of living and dying
That never comes with pre-announced intent.
There will always be another
Of what God’s sovereign hand prescribed,
Perpetual days, varied, full and empty,
Filled with the faithfulness of God.
We must count all days as treasure,
Whether somewhat great or less good
For even as our grief would leave us laden,
The overflowing ecstasy would “do us in.”
“This is the day the Lord hath made,
I will rejoice and be glad in it.”
Because I know until Jesus comes,
There will always be another – just like this