Driving to house church last night I listened to Frank Turner: The Second Three Years and had a nice little reminiscence to my trip to London last year...
Walking along the south bank of The Thames, I spent a cool, sunny day in July listening to this song over and over. By the time Frank reached the crescendo for probably the seventh time I realized I was virtually alone on my little stretch of sidewalk as I neared Lambeth Palace.
For the first time in months I was feeling completely happy and filled with peace and joy - just for a moment there, in the midst of figuring so much out. But it was real and I let the tears in my eyes spill under my sunglasses, confident no one - should they happen to pass - would notice.
The sky was bright, the river was constant and the beat of life carrying on to the tune of this song was exactly what I needed to think about just how blessed I truly am.