Uprooted

My guy

While he was watching the sun set, I was watching him. 
Bella didn’t understand why we were staring.
She thought it was boring. 
I told her: “Sometimes you get really lucky and find a good man. Sometimes you live in a place with nice weather. Today, I have both. So I guess, really, I have it all.” She sort of sniffed the air, the way dogs do and her tiny little bottom teeth showed pale as the moon against the pink of the sky. 
And I said a tiny little prayer of thanks. Because lately a lot of things have been hard. And today, for what ever reason, it was a little easier.
I stumbled upon the prayer of St. Francis this morning:
“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace”
I kept repeating it in my head.
And I guess it worked. Because my heart is not so heavy.
And I guess it worked because the sun exploded like this, and it somehow felt like my outlook was rosy and therefore the clouds were too. 
And I guess it worked because at one point John put his whole hand on my head and I leaned in to him before I could decide to do so. And he held it there, all warm and steady. 
We don’t get to chose what happened before. We did the best we could with what we had. Which may not have been much. Or maybe, too much of the wrong thing. 
But we can choose now. 
If we are brave. And thoughtful. And willing.
We can say thanks.
We can hold a moment, perfect in its smallness, and agree that it is good.
We can sow love all day. And seek to understand. 
Console, pardon, hope, serve up joy.
And where there are dark parts; bring light. 
Shed light. Be light.
Or maybe, even, just stand in it. In the pink and orange of a day’s ending. Maybe just standing in the light is enough some days.
It was today.

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