|thank you low-heeled booties for not destroying my feet |
((and thank you Bukowski for "The Laughing Heart"))
Sunday morning. The time: around 7:30am. The place: my front porch.
Sun in the sky, a crisp in the air, the clouds not quite parted entirely.
With Saturday being so beautiful - and even the consideration to not wear a scarf which, in March, in Portland, is not always advisable - I suppose I just assumed we'd round out the weekend with loveliness.
But one, two, not even three steps out the door and kerrrtuuunk! I was down.
Slid right on out over a thin layer of black ice. Got the bruise to prove it!
Later, at work, I would joke with Jodi that between her not being able to be inside my apartment more than 10 seconds before falling, and me unable to make it outside my apartment for more than 10 seconds without introducing my bum to the ground, from here on out we'd just have to get a running start and jump clean across the threshold.
I'm not sure if we're the problem or if it's the apartment itself.
Either way I fell down, and the most important thing to note here is that it took me far too long to get back up because I was laughing so hard I couldn't get my balance again on the ice.
Another successful day in the life!
So gratitude this week is going entirely to one person.
Though the usual jottings are there in hard copy in my church notebook, by the time I got home last night my heart was flooded, absolutely overwhelmed, with love and gratitude for someone who has guided me and supported me with unfailing love.
Her incredible heart and love for Jesus have been such enormous lights in some of the darker times I've faced in the last couple of years. I've said it before but I'll say it again how she has pastored me and shepherded me as I've grown in faith.
She is a touchstone of friendship and faith. A buoy. An anchor. A friend. A sister.
Being blessed to do life with this girl is something I will never get over. Thinking back on the (sometimes bumpy) road that led us to our friendship, I can't begin to believe how God was so clever as to orchestrate it all.
(( He is good. All the time, He is good. ))
Sunday night at Red Hills Market (I really have been making a nuisance of myself there lately) she poured me a glass of wine from the bottle of North Valley Pinot she'd brought along and listened earnestly as I poured out what's been on my heart, what's been a heavy burden and what God's been doing about it.
And she guided me back. She gave me new perspective and reminded me of His promises.
Even now, as I write this with tears in my eyes (sometimes I really do feel like Kristen Bell with that whole "if I'm not between a 3 and a 7 on the 'sad to happy' scale, I'm crying" - when did that start?) I am consumed with such love and admiration for her.