Friends:
It's an absolutely flawless day here in the Pacific Northwest. Not a cloud in the sky, light breeze, afternoon highs to reach 80 F. We take our share of deserved jabs about our bad weather, but when it's good here, it's VERY, VERY good.
I rose early (my day off today), dressed in jogging clothes, spashed water on my face, ran a brush through my hair, brewed a pot of fresh-ground Starbucks Dark Roast and went out on my front porch to enjoy the delightful morning beverage while listening to birds sing.
My reverie was disturbed by angry voices: as I turned towards the noise, I noticed my neighbors' garage door opening. The family - dressed in suits, ties, panty-hose, and uncomfortable shoes - emerged and began loading bookbags and lunch coolers into the mini-van. They were arguing about something - it seemed one of the teenagers wanted to drive their own car rather than ride with Mom and Dad - and did not seem at all imbued with Holy Spirit. The teenager lost the argument, they crammed into the car and drove away.
Five years ago (or was it six?), I would have been sitting next to them at the Tacoma Dome, sweating in my panty hose, waiting for my butt to fall asleep so the pain would stop.
I took another sip of my coffee, stroked my cat's fur, inhaled the rich perfume of a summer morning, and remembered how lucky I was to be right where I am.
Wasa/sharing "life is good" feelings