So I have, basically, two choices.

When I've stayed up half the night making truffles for choir practice, only to find out practice is canceled, I can whine about lost sleep. Or, I can know that my boss is having a rough time and that those sweets will cheer her up, even if only a little.

When I'm craving a grilled chicken philly from Lenny's, and a big fat FOR LEASE sign greets me as I pull up to the door, I can be sorely disappointed. (And I *will* miss Lenny's...) Or, I can enjoy the fact that, having gone to Rocky's instead, I had an equally good sandwich and got to meet a really nice server there in process.

When I come back to pick up my order, and Rocky's is out of to-go cups, I can be annoyed and irritable. Or, I can appreciate the fact that said nice server not only gave me a Diet Coke in a beer cup, no lid, but he gave me two bucks back just for the negligible inconvenience.

These things prepare me for when it really counts. When an old friend commits suicide, the latest in the string of deaths that has characterized my life over the last couple of years, I can stop living, too. Or, I can be thankful for the reminder that every single second counts, grateful for time spent with people I haven't seen in far too long.

I can assure you I haven't spent the last couple of days choosing the latter every single time, but I'm trying. Reaching a feeble, exhausted, somewhat embittered hand toward the sky from my naked place on the floor, I'm trying. I don't know why I keep having to learn this lesson over and over again. I don't know what God is preparing me for. But I know that life is full of refuse, and it's equally full of grace. Sometimes our eyes only catch its glint after we've dirtied our hands, pawing through the muck without any real assurance that what we're searching for is even there. And so often when we find it, it seems tiny and insignificant. But a bit of grace is worth more than a world of hurt.

 

We have, basically, two choices. I just wish he'd seen that.