I’ve been tripping down memory lane a bit lately with my blogs but words I read yesterday reminded me of a discussion Doug and I had recently. Some weeks ago the words marching orders were mentioned on breakfast television I can’t remember the context but it got us thinking about the time when we used to receive marching orders. The dictionary tells us they are instructions which are handed down from on high which clearly tell one where to go and what to do.
Our orders were not exactly from on high but they came from our superior at Divisional Headquarters and they arrived by post the first week in December, as I remember. They were instructions advising us whether we would remain in our current appointment or where we were to be sent. We never thought to question them.
Yesterday I was reading Matthew’s gospel chapter eight where the Roman Centurion tells Jesus that he understands authority and doesn’t require Jesus to come and heal his servant’s sickness. The Centurion knew that Jesus only had to say the word and his servant would be healed. This, of course, is exactly what happened. As I read the story I could relate to it perfectly. Understanding authority stood me in good stead for my future years. When I and my employer couldn’t agree on the way forward I would acquiesce, after all he was the boss. I didn’t fret, fuss or lose any sleep over it because at the end of the day if it all went pear shaped it wasn’t my responsibility. Makes me wonder how often we humans huff and puff about the things we have no control over.