Today I walked in a “snow globe” snowfall in downtown Ann Arbor, Michigan.
Thursday’s are my writing day and I was invited to a lunch meeting with a fellow colleague at the original Cottage Inn in Ann Arbor. I spent time before lunching writing and researching a project that I am working on. Then I had lunch. Then back to Borders for an afternoon of writing and thinking.
I drove home in a “snow globe” snowfall on 23 North. It was a magical mystical hour ride as the sun set on the horizon.
This evening I joined my daughter at Mongolian Bar-B-Que for a fund raiser dinner for the University of Michigan Nursing School. The meal was superb and the company was equally superb. We tipped the guest “g’rillas” and ate the dinner they prepared.
My last stop this evening was a meeting with several others to discuss ways to fulfill His mission within our community of faith.
That is the checklist of the activities that filled my day. Beyond that, something else happened.
In the middle of the morning one of Border’s staff began the arduous process of peeling masking tape and applying it to the carpeted floor. You know the annoying sound of masking tape being unrolled.
She was making what appeared to be a pathway along the floor. The giveaway was little arrows intermittently along the tape line. My curiosity was aroused. But I decided not to ask what was going on.
After returning from lunch I realized that Borders had hosted a “young, up & coming, GenY” singer. The tape guided the fans to her table for a CD signing following her gig.
I was back at Borders for my afternoon writing.
Then it happened.
The lady that applied the masking tape to the carpet was now ripping it up and creating a masking tape ball. Meticulously she applied the tape and recklessly she ripped it up.
I am not sure why I find this little episode so fascinating. Maybe it is because part of my calling is to put masking tape on the floor of people’s experiences and point them toward a destination. Weekly I put little arrows on the tape line as cues. Then I realize that the culture tries to rip up the direction that I lay down.
No complaints, just an observation. By the way, I got a lot of work done today in the middle of this object lesson.
Thursday’s are my writing day and I was invited to a lunch meeting with a fellow colleague at the original Cottage Inn in Ann Arbor. I spent time before lunching writing and researching a project that I am working on. Then I had lunch. Then back to Borders for an afternoon of writing and thinking.
I drove home in a “snow globe” snowfall on 23 North. It was a magical mystical hour ride as the sun set on the horizon.
This evening I joined my daughter at Mongolian Bar-B-Que for a fund raiser dinner for the University of Michigan Nursing School. The meal was superb and the company was equally superb. We tipped the guest “g’rillas” and ate the dinner they prepared.
My last stop this evening was a meeting with several others to discuss ways to fulfill His mission within our community of faith.
That is the checklist of the activities that filled my day. Beyond that, something else happened.
In the middle of the morning one of Border’s staff began the arduous process of peeling masking tape and applying it to the carpeted floor. You know the annoying sound of masking tape being unrolled.
She was making what appeared to be a pathway along the floor. The giveaway was little arrows intermittently along the tape line. My curiosity was aroused. But I decided not to ask what was going on.
After returning from lunch I realized that Borders had hosted a “young, up & coming, GenY” singer. The tape guided the fans to her table for a CD signing following her gig.
I was back at Borders for my afternoon writing.
Then it happened.
The lady that applied the masking tape to the carpet was now ripping it up and creating a masking tape ball. Meticulously she applied the tape and recklessly she ripped it up.
I am not sure why I find this little episode so fascinating. Maybe it is because part of my calling is to put masking tape on the floor of people’s experiences and point them toward a destination. Weekly I put little arrows on the tape line as cues. Then I realize that the culture tries to rip up the direction that I lay down.
No complaints, just an observation. By the way, I got a lot of work done today in the middle of this object lesson.
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