The power of a few words

Things have been so hectic lately. Work has been busy, I traveled over the weekend, my Bible studies start my day off, but they do take time. It seems like from the time I get up until I walk through the door in the evening, all I do is run. By the time I get home, between the fibromyalgia and anemia, I'm pretty well exhausted. Generally in the evenings I just sit and watch TV, cuddle my dog and play around on my computer.

This kind of schedule leaves me neglecting things I need to do, though, like clean the kitchen as thouroughly as I should or do laundry *before* I run out of undies (what a concept!). Sometimes when I leave home in the morning, I feel guilty for leaving things a mess. Guilt leads to me beating myself up a bit in my head as I drive to work. It's not too bad, but still -- any negative self talk is going to have an effect.

This morning was one of those mornings -- I fell asleep in my chair while watching Good Morning America, so I had to rush to get dressed. I walked the dog, then tucked her in before I left. As usual, the kitchen was one of my last stops before I went out the door -- and ugh, those dirty dishes from last night sure didn't wash themselves while I slept.

I try to pray and listen to Christian music/preaching on my way to work. This morning, though, the station I have been listening to had an emergency fundraiser, for today only, to help them raise the mortgage payment for the station. Well, it's really hard for me to say no when I hear an ask for money for a good cause, but I am flat broke right now. I had to turn the station without being able to give.

Finally, after battling the sun in my eyes all the way up Camp Bowie, causing the beginnings of a headache, I got to Mickey D's for one of the bacon, egg and cheese biscuits I have come to really enjoy for breakfast. The girl who took my order and money was one I have encountered there several times. She is super sweet, always calls me "young lady" or "sweetie" and always has a smile on her face. (I can't say I would have the same cheerful demeanor if I had to stand for an 8-hour shift shilling fast food.)

This morning, her words were few as I drove away, but they had the biggest impact all of her past niceness combined has had: "Have a blessed day."

Her words made me smile, and I could feel that familiar spread of love and comfort. She may not have meant the words the way I took them -- who knows if she is a Christian or not -- and she may have even said them mechanically, the same words to everyone she saw (although I doubt that). Her words blessed me, though. I prayed a short prayer of praise as I drove away, and asked blessings on her.

It amazes me how large an impact four one-syllable words can have on a person's day -- maybe even their life. I have always wanted to be the person to wish another a blessed day. I have always been shy to for some reason, though. I have recently told some people that I have prayed for them, if I think knowing that may bring them some sense of hope, peace or comfort. Actually wishing someone a blessed day, though, I haven't really done that. I should. I will.

Have a blessed day.