Good morning, beloveds. I woke up today and looked outside and thought: its cloudy and its Friday and its chilly and maybe today is a good day to resurrect my old tradition—Sacrament of Soup. Its been awhile since I made soup. The world has a way of pushing in on us, doesnt it? I go to sleep worried about one problem and wake up worrying about another. Yesterday, my 15 year old daughter was saying how school is so stressful because no sooner does she focus on Honors Chemistry than her Algebra 2 grade starts slipping. And then she goes back to focusing on math and her English grade starts wobbling. That never changes, I told her. Even after you finish school. Its just reality. She shrugged. Yeah. I wasnt trying to discourage her. And she knew it. I see no reason to mollycoddle my children or pretend life is sparkly all the time. Shes facing the reality of difficulty right now and the best thing I can do is come along side her and say, Yep, its that way for me, too. Were all just trying the best we can and most days (for me, anyway) it feels like triage: just putting out fires and running willy-nilly here and there, trying to keep all the balls in the air. I went for a walk this morning. A brisk walk. A half-jogging walk. Its been awhile since I ran. Two years ago I was running upwards of 10-15 miles a week. And now it feels like death just to briskly walk for 40 minutes with about 3 minutes of jogging smashed in there somewhere. I jog-walked past a bunch of houses and there was this one house—an old man shuffling to and from his car—and it was a grand old house. In the 1980s I bet it was just FABULOUS. But there were cobwebs in the ornate landscape lights. And there was something like the pall of death and old age hanging over the whole place. Its glory days were gone and nothing remained but dusty cobwebs in landscape lights and the hint of What Once Was. The ravages of time, I thought as I huffed by. When I was younger I used to think one day Id feel like Id truly ARRIVED. That if I just tried hard enough, if I just stayed thin, if I just prayed every day, if I just was nice to everybody that I would somehow escape the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Ah, for that sweet naiveté! How innocent I was! How hopeful! The truth is that life pushes us around, trials come to all, trouble and sickness and old age and debt and children growing up and moving away and the deep, inherent loneliness of the human condition ALWAYS waiting there to meet me. Geez, Im sounding all depressed. Im not, I promise. I actually feel far better than I have earlier this year. There is a positive, here. Its that this life isnt all there is. Thank God for that. The end of the story isnt the end of the story. There are glimpses of Heaven here on earth and as I rounded the bend and caught sight of my home I felt a sudden warmth spread over me—Christmas is coming! Its almost time to decorate the house. Its almost time for reading by the fire. For twinkling lights. For Advent. This weekend Ive decided to embrace ALL of life: its joys and despairs, its cobwebby oldness and its fresh newness. But first of all, Im going to make soup.
Posted on: Fri, 14 Nov 2014 16:54:52 +0000
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