For Wilshire Baptist Church
What did you do with your leap day? I’m talking, of course, about February 29, which comes around once every four years and stretches our normal 365-day year to 366 days. The practice started in 45 BC to keep the Roman calendar synced with the seasons. Pretty smart, don’t you think? I do.
And yet it is incomplete. While the calendar said February 29, it also still said Thursday. I wonder why nobody ever thought to give that extra day a completely different name — something that would stand out and set it apart? Still have the other seven days of the week but have that extra day with a special name in there as well. Where is Hallmark when you need them?
But anyway, what did I do with my leap day? I wish I’d done something special, but it was just a regular Thursday. I met the guys for breakfast at 7 a.m. as we’ve been doing on Thursdays for almost 20 years. We share some laughs and general news, and more often now, some aches, pains and frustrations. As you get older, you collect more of those. It wasn’t so long ago we all were probably more hesitant to share some of our junk because we were too proud or felt like “I’ve got this.” But now we know better. We don’t necessarily “got this”; we need each other.
After breakfast I went home and got to work, which included reading a friend’s new book for a review and then interviewing two Baylor professors for some articles for one of the university’s publications. I’ve reached an age where I’m usually older than the people I’m interviewing, but the titles and PhD’s they have before and after their names somehow make me feel younger. Those titles and degrees still elicit some student-teacher respect from me.
And Thursday being our trash day, I made sure the trash and recycling bins got rolled out to the curb for pickup and then back behind the house afterward. While I was out I talked to some neighbors walking by and confirmed our plans for a neighborhood gathering at the local bakery on Saturday. I also checked the flowerbeds. The daffodils and irises are blooming and the camelia is about to do the same, all good signs that spring is on the way, even though it is still February.
Back inside, I checked my online medical portals to see if my test results were posted. I had another periodic follow-up scan earlier this week and I’ve already heard the result – I’m still cancer free – but I like to download the reports and read them for myself. It’s been a long journey and it’s like looking back over the trail map to see where I’ve been.
So that’s what I did with my leap day. Nothing so unusual or special, but the wordsmith in me hears “leap” and this year that brings to mind the phrase “leap of faith.” I feel like life is a constant series of leaps of faith – like stepping stones across a creek that keeps twisting and turning in front of us. We jump from one stone to the next and think we’re safely on dry ground, and we are for a while, but then the water spreads out again and we have to take a leap of faith to the next stone.
Those stepping stones that keep us safe come in many forms, but mostly they are people traveling with us. They’re friends, family, doctors, pastors, counselors, teachers, good neighbors – those people who are waiting on the next stone with an outstretched hand and the words, “leap over to me now; I’ve got you.” And if we’re doing it right, we look behind us and we’re the ones reaching out the hand.
Maybe if I can remember that four years from now, I’ll celebrate February 29 as Leap of Faith Day.