This day might perhaps be the most boring day of our life.
It might look a lot like yesterday.
A lot like last Friday.
A lot like last November.
The daily grind.
Another peppercorn held in the mill.
Waiting its turn to be ground into dust.
Sprinkled on a paper plate.
Consumed by a ravenous world.
Never to be seen again.
Never to see the light of day.
Or perhaps we’re wrong.
Perhaps we’re chunks of crystal.
Salt from a dead sea.
A tinge of pink.
When the light hits right.
To be sprinkled.
To preserve what’s sacred.
To give life.
Perhaps we are the salt of the earth.
Perhaps this day we shall meet some pepper.
Perhaps we’ll let God have His way.
Giving taste to what seems to so many just another day.