It’s days like this that make me ponder. Ponder what a beautiful place I’m in. Ponder the ridiculous people I’m surrounded by. Ponder the little blessings that make me an overwhelmed daughter of Christ.
The shades in my living room are broken. They’re the kind that you pull along a track, the kind you see in your sunday school room, the classic church blind. They don’t rotate open anymore, and they only open about a foot and a half wide leaving a 2-foot space on either side to the darkness.
Even in their darkness they cannot hold back the light.
I sit here on the couch against the wall at an angle to the window with the blinds closest to me only alluding to the presence of light somewhere beyond the unseen threshold. The farther to the left I look, the more I see of the outside world. First a quarter inch, then half an inch a few blinds later, to an inch. The amount of light and life let in by these small sneak peeks warm my heart to a great disproportion for how much it lights my living room.
What a privilege to see the light–no matter how little.
The light has been dim of late with the coming and going of rain clouds and thunderous sounds, but it is back in full bloom with the blossoms on the trees of the shrubs guarding my window. Its scattered presence makes its all-day appearance that much more welcome.
In this room of dimly lit delight, I reflect on my yesterday and today filled with people of wonder. My days have been greeted and farewelled with beautiful people.
I find such joy in hearing people’s stories and seeing their growth. You can’t have one without the other. Without knowing their story, how can you know let alone appreciate how far they’ve come? Without sustaining that relationship, what’s the point of having intruded on their inner-most self? Nevertheless, in the midst of the storm that has been this week–the climax of this semester–I have been given the gift of conversation through so many individuals.
My eyes well up reliving my darkest moments with a contradicting smile spread across my face with the message of freedom. In return, my eyes are are locked on hers’ with our positions having switched.
My ears want to turn up the volume to hear her over the raucous of the surrounding crowds.
The silence is pierced with his low voice sharing little and big fears.
Giggles can be heard outside of her office door.
To a stranger walking past the car it sounds like we are fighting but rather we are fervently expressing our displeasure over the same things.
The dreary weather attempts to combat the joyous tones in their voices as they brag over their dear one.
All of these moments, feelings, and intangibles have been wrapped up in little packages with bows on top just for mine to delicately open when the time is right. What plethora of gifts for this undeserving woman in a time scheduled dread. Thanks to the always loving Gift Giver.