A perfect illustration of life:
I was on a walk. Feeling a little sorrowful. Feeling a little wonderful. Does anybody else regularly hold those two in tension?
The weather was perfect, 68 degrees and breezy, and I was walking in an area with glorious high trees. They were swaying in the breeze, rustling as I walked by. I was arrested by the combination of that sight and what hit my ears.
I had my iPod on a random shuffle and had probably been bouncing between Teenage Lobotomy and Firework, or some such combo, when a glorious segment of Bach’s Mass in B Minor came on. It resounded not just through my earbuds but through my spirit. Listen in: 2-13 Osanna (Da Capo). You get the idea?
I was so overcome in all of my senses, that I just decided to stop and not rush on. I wanted to lie down and watch the trees, listen to the music, smell the nearby flowers, feel the cool grass on bare feet. And as I settled into a spot on the curb, I realized I’d put my hands in dog crap.
I actually laughed out loud. It cracked me up. For that is what life is like, isn’t it? Our glorious times marred by, well, crap. And our crappy times potentially improved, redeemed, made right.
I love how life imitates, well, life.