Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Brown Box

On my counter sits a brown box. It was delivered by the nice UPS man that delivers packages in my neighborhood. I signed my name to receive this brown box. Only the most important boxes require a signature.


The box is not very heavy but it will change my life. My excitement about the contents of this brown box cannot be contained yet I find myself not ready to open it.


There is a bit of fear mixed with my excitement. There is also a tiny bit of doubt. Am I really worth the cost? What will be the monetary cost to use what sits in the brown box resting on my counter? All human life has worth but I still worry about the changes and sacrifices my family will make as a result of this brown box. If used correctly, my life could be prolonged by this brown box. At least my quality of life will be better.


The brown box calmly sits on the counter tempting me to peek. Yet I am overwhelmed by how life changing it can be. So I stare back hoping to win the staring contest. I know sooner or later the box will win. The question is when?


When will I get the phone call to set up the meeting to learn to use the contents of the brown box? Who will teach me? Will the timing be convenient enough for me to bring moral support? Will I find out how expensive maintenance is and suddenly no longer want to use my new life line? Will the box sit in a corner collecting dust looking violated after it was opened but unused? These questions keep me from opening the box.


Anticipation surges into my heart like a million butterflies ready to be released. The box sits. Tantalizing not taunting. Hoping not judging. Waiting for me to be ready for my life to change forever. No matter what I choose my life will never be the same again. The brown box cannot be forgotten now that it is here nor can it be taken back as if it never arrived. The brown box changed my life long before it was tossed onto the UPS truck. There is no turning back time. No looking back. To choose to do nothing is a choice in and of itself. So I will choose to continue the steps that have led the brown box to my kitchen counter.


To be continued . . .

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