Thursday, November 17, 2011

What do I know?

Life can be incredibly ironic.
Contrary to what you expected.
Sometimes what happens is not what you wanted.
Sometimes it's the opposite of what you had in mind.
And sometimes you don't really like it all that much.
But, deep down, you know somehow it must be for the best.
How do you deal with that?
Such conflict of emotion.
Of thought.
Of perspective.
My perspective is skewed right now, I think.
All muddled and twisted, and glaring when I try to look at it straight on.
So I can't look at it all rightly.
I don't really understand life.
Not at all.
I don't understand how everything is working together.
I can't see the big picture.
I can't even get my head around what's happening right now.
I don't know what to do.
And that too is ironic, because I'm the person that makes plans.
Plays out all the maybe-this-or-maybe-that scenarios in my head.
Tries to account for all the possibilities.
Gets to a place where I feel prepared for anything.
But then I find myself here.
And I experience that familiar feeling.
Knowing that I don't understand.
And yet...
Knowing that, deep down, I do understand.
I understand enough.
I understand that I can't always understand.
I can't always know what's coming.
Can't always know what's going on right now.
Can't always have a handle on things.
I understand that sometimes, life just has to go on.
Sometimes, you have to just keep going.
Sometimes, you have to just do what's next.
You always have to just trust God with that, and the rest.
"If you knew everything, then where would be your trust?"
~Mark Fitzgerald

Monday, October 24, 2011

Taking a page out of Laura's book...

The simple things...

A raindrop on my cheek.
A gentle breeze in my hair.
A sunbeam's glow.
A laugh in the air.
A child's smile.
A homemade cake.
A misty sunrise.
A creaky swing.
A quiet morning.
A fading flower.
A peaceful twilight.
A winking star.
A slamming door.
A grass-stained knee.
A freshly-mown field.
A beat-up ball.
A lone cricket.
A crackling fire.
A stained apron.
A steaming cup.
An old piano.
A dusty book.
A ragged Bible.
A rusty truck.
A hidden creek.
A barefoot walk.
A scribbled note.
A sweet farewell.
Sometimes the simple things are really the big things.
Sometimes the things you think are insignificant are the things that make up what's most important.
And sometimes what seems easily forgettable becomes the most memorable.
Sometimes the simple things are the best things.

"It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all."
~Laura Ingalls Wilder