Grey Day. Lovely Day.

 

“They that sow in tears shall reap in joy” (Psalm 126.5)

 

I met someone this summer

and we're getting to know one another.

There are stories to share

thoughts to consider

gifts to remember

and defeats to recount.

 

We've both lived long enough

that our hearts bear 

the inevitable scars

of healing

over shattered windows

and slammed doors.

Some of the stories just

aren't

pretty.

 

Of course there are bright memories to share too.

Moments of great joy

and victory

and insight

and peace.

Moments that make us smile

just to remember

and share.

 

There is something beautiful

about ears that are open to

truly listen

and eyes that watch you as you speak

to make sure they get all of the

body language

so the picture of what you're sharing is complete.

 

There is something beautiful, too

about recounting painful memories

only to find

all these years later

they have no power.

They're just

memories.

Vivid

yet powerless

memories.

 

We shared some of those yesterday

over a comfort-food lunch

tucked into a quiet spot

on a grey winters day.

Icy drizzle streaked the windows

across the room,

the coffee was perfectly hot

and folks hummed quiet

conversations at nearby tables.

 

I asked.

He told me.

He asked.

I told him.

 

And here's what I'm thinking about this morning.

 

Time passes.

Wounds heal.

Scars fade.

Life goes on.

 

Some of the stories I shared yesterday

were the most difficult

most painful

most agonizing

moments of my life.

And I recounted them

smiling some

laughing some

and...yes....

rolling my eyes some

because

someone else was so dang stupid

or I was so dang stupid

or life just slapped me around to the point

it was stupid.

He's been slapped a few times too.

And, like me,

he's seen his share of

magic, inspired moments.
He's learned to smile too.
And laugh.
 

Point being:

I made it.

He made it.

Mostly, we all make it.

 

It's a good thought to hide away in a heart-pocket

for those days when trouble is chasing me

when struggle consumes me

when hopes are dashed

or I'm just feeling

a little bit too alone:
Hold on.
It won't last.
You're close.
Just hold on.
You'll make it.

 

Through it all

good, bad, ugly and uninspired,

(and don't doubt it, we've all got our

good, bad, ugly and uninspired memories),

through it all

mostly

we all make it.