I pushed the two babies sleeping in the pram down the lane.
An older man approached, urging his reluctant little dog to keep walking. Soft
white clouds slipped across a blue sky; the gentle breeze ruffled my hair.
‘Lovely day,’ I remarked, in the age-old British tradition
of commenting on the weather rather than simply saying hello.
At the same time, as we passed one another, he opined, ‘Nae bad
today.’
The same weather. The same day. Different perspectives: one
looking for the positive, the other perhaps expecting the negative.
It’s not easy to change perspective. I’m struggling to
change my perspective on the dreaded task, looming next month, of moving my
dear mom into a smaller apartment in a different home. My vision is obscured by
an unease that I am overlooking something vital in the planning, by a fear that
her unhappiness and anxiety over a move will make everything heart-breaking,
for both of us.
Life is a blue sky, with clouds scudding across. Praying
that I can focus on the blue sky, and not let the clouds obscure the sun.
Praying that I can focus on God, and lean in, letting Jesus walk me through the
task, enjoying the unforced rhythms of grace. Already I have seen his hand. May
I focus on his gracious interventions. He is always enough.
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