A wise friend recently told me that we don’t have good days contrasted with bad days. Every day has good and bad moments. I’m trying to reframe my thinking in that way. Yesterday I sat cocooned in the backyard sun for hours, indulging in the comfort of divine prose. The laughter of my youngest son as he played driveway basketball with my husband interrupted the constant birdsong. That was a good moment. For lunch I slathered butter on a thick chunk of homemade French bread. With dinner last night I indulged in summer in a glass: a gin and tonic with a fresh squeeze of lime. Those were good moments. Today the sadness fogged around me as soon as I woke, unwelcome. Just out of my peripheral view, it’s there, a version of the truth of this new life. Eventually I escaped to the backyard to cry. That was a bad moment. I lost my patience as I tried to help with Spanish homework, eventually slamming the fridge door shut in frustration. That was a bad moment. Last night we tumbled onto the sectional for the new basketball documentary on ESPN. During commercial breaks we shared favorite scenes and munched on monster cookies. That was a good moment. When I walked into the dining room this morning, I noticed my spindly tomato plants, growing from seeds, stretching towards the sun. That was a good moment. As I scrolled through social media, I saw images of protests bookended by first-person accounts of medical professionals fighting the virus. Simultaneously I felt anger and fear and sadness. That was a bad moment. Yesterday during online worship, I studied the faces of the worship band, singing one of my favorite songs. Tears sprung at the corners of my eyes, and I looked away. At once my heart ached to put my arms around my friends and also swelled with a deep love for Jesus and his followers. That was a bad/good moment. Do you have any good or bad moments you care to share?
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September 2020
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