When you wake up in the morning preparing for an ordinary day – the daily grind, trudging through the mire, operating in survival mode.

And He meets you there and Beauty is everywhere.

That was my day today.

Woke up. Did yoga with my hubby. A nice hot shower. Ate bagels and cream cheese with our four kids for breakfast. Babysitter came. Attended a conference on anger and the gospel this morning. Shared lunch and meaningful conversation with dear friends, about how to move toward folks even when feeling utterly awkward, among other things. Read from Luke 18 about the Pharisee and the tax collector – the first who thanked God he was ‘not like other men’ and the second who stood far off, who would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ And tears came- and begged Him to let this be true of me. Those same tears came back when I was approached by a woman at the conference, nearly a stranger, who quietly pressed a $50 bill into my hand with the words – ‘I felt called to this today, for you to pay the babysitter with’ – and left as quickly as she’d come.

Came home to find four happy kids who had made turkeys out of leaves off our trees and from paper plates, and a ‘thankful tree’ made out of twigs and construction paper. They were playing board games and reading books as we walked in the door. Boys went with dad out to the garage to build and paint shelves for the tuba lockers. The girls and I went downtown – time at the library, window-shopping at the consignment shop and antique store, ran into another dear friend and her son there on the bricks. Got the most beautiful text from my sister-in-law, about grief and lament and finding Beauty in the mess this world is in. The weather – a perfect fall day in Nebraska – sunny, 60 degrees. Warm enough to go out without a coat, but cool enough to not feel out of place in boots and a plaid scarf.

Used my new trash can today, the one given to us by the brothers and sisters here who love us so very well, and thought of the miracle of their presence in our lives each and every time it opened and closed – and thought ‘old’ to ‘New,’ and ‘dark’ to ‘Light,’ and ‘death’ to ‘Life’ as the lid released and clamped back down again. Tonight, a supper of ravioli and mixed veggies cooked in oil and garlic, leftover brownies for dessert, prepared while listening to ‘Behold the Lamb’ on repeat on youtube, the enormity of His sacrifice for all being drilled right on in.

The kids all into the tub for baths and hair washes – Saturday night, before church in the morning – smelling now of creamy peaches and minty toothpaste, in flannel PJs, snuggled into beds with fleece blankets handmade by a beloved aunt. Listened to some read-alouds: Harry Potter and the Berenstein Bears and this Seek-and-Find book we checked out from our local library. Hugs and kisses, snuggles and ‘good-nights.’ And then two of the four children out of bed, creeping downstairs, afraid, coming to us for prayers of reassurance, that He really is big and good and knows what His children need.

Silence descends upon our home now. Finally. Nathan studying scores on the couch, drinking hot apple cider with cinnamon. Me, in my sweats and ‘running’ shoes – sending off e-mails to folks who were weighing heavy on my heart, sitting down with pen in hand, to process and digest the thoughts that have swept through my soul throughout the day here.

And why share this? This day of mine that seemed so very sweet to me?

Because there are a lot of hard days on this earth. A lot of days when hearts are heavy and brains feel foggy and actions feel mechanical. A lot of grief and loss and darkness descending, when it seems like the clouds are permanent fixtures that will forever keep the Sun from appearing. There are doubts and there is shame, there is fear and O so much pain. And, I think it would be safe to say, that this is true of all of us, at least in different times and in different seasons of life – for to be human is to experience the brokenness of this world, the world – not as it was created to be – but as it is, in its fallen, dying state.

But here’s the thing: there are good days here too – rich days – days of beauty that make one glad to be alive. Days where we can see ourselves and the world around us more clearly, where we experience His goodness anew and where the battle lets up long enough for us to know Joy without having to fight for it. Where the bitter roots don’t seem to have such a stronghold and we soak in the Living Water effortlessly.

And I wonder if, on these days, He is graciously allowing us a glimpse of what He had planned from the very beginning. A foretaste of ‘Shalom’ – the Peace, Wholeness, and Completion that can only be found in Him, that He promises to bring about again, in His own time.

So I am grateful for this sweet day, not especially because I got to spend it with precious family or dear friends, not because I ate yummy food and was blessed by a stranger and got to go shopping per se. But because, in it, in this day as one cohesive, unified experience, I feel as though I have come away longing for Christ anew, wanting more of Him, more of His Kingdom. Having tasted and seen that the Lord is good. More willing to relinquish self and follow after Him, without counting the cost. Because the more I am acquainted with His sweetness, the more I know that He is more than enough for me. For us all.

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