One Wednesday morning, I was filled with anxiety. There are things I can’t change, as much as I want to. I had not slept well.
I went to mass and breakfast with my Dad. I saw Jim O. and Maura T. and Fr. George and each of them was so graceful in their light-bringing that it brought some ease. I got a hug from Carla at the Farmer’s Daughter and they made me a sourdough French toast and berries off-menu, and served me a gallon of coffee with milk. The place smelled of bacon and pancakes, which might be the very scent of kindness. I taught a music class with great kids and appreciative Moms and we danced together, very much joyful in the moment we were given. On the way home, I stopped for almond milk, vanilla greek yogurt, and frozen peaches. As I walked the aisles of the grocery store, I still felt anxious. There are things I can’t change, as much as I wish I could.
I unloaded the groceries and walked the dog and looked at the sky and ate my hummus, cucumber, and pita, feta, a thick slice of Kerrygold Dubliner and five crackers, half an orange.
My daughter came home. We talked a while. I cleaned up the kitchen and caught up on twitter. I sent a surprise to a friend. My husband came home. We baked potatoes and broiled salmon.
We went to rehearsal at church where we sang praise songs. At some point, I turned and faced the altar and swayed and sang to God and it felt like we were dancing. Dancing with God, really and truly. I felt Him smile at me.
I am not sure what’s happening, but it’s good.
At some point on that Wednesday, I realized the things I worried over are all still there. Nothing has changed in my exterior life, but on the inside, things are shifting in a way they never have before. Slowly and haltingly at times, I’m dancing with God. He’s feeding me peace in the midst. Giving me Himself.
Later that Wednesday night, I watched ‘A Chef’s Life’ and ate gingersnaps and drank tea while my dog leaned on my lap, and I felt at peace. Nothing really had changed since that morning, but somehow I feel I am being changed in the midst of my struggle. It’s kindness and nourishment, light brought to darkness. It’s direction and hope in a life that feels so hard sometimes. It’s grace, that’s my best guess, at the end of this regular day in the middle of a week in the middle, maybe, of my life. Amazing Wednesday grace.