have you ever felt like a common denominator? we're all, always common denominators. there are times when this feels like a really frustrating reality for me; and then there are times when i give myself too much credit after i step back and take one of those peer-down-at-the-goodness-that's-attached-to-me sort of glances.
in the same vein as my last post on the indefatigable love and pursuit of God in my life, i find now that i'm in this weird, hyper-aware-of-my-common-denominator-ness, phase of my story. the kind that feels frustrating. the kind that feels sort of like when you used to play pipe line and the green goo started coming out at every try. damn i hated that green goo.
i look at one of the dearest people i've ever known and see them experiencing disappointment after disappointment followed by loss - and i see that i'm in that. i look at the love of my life running into walls and being so persistent to break through even just one - and i see that i'm in that. i look at my family and the crossroads we're at as a whole - and i see that i'm in that. and when i do one of those peer downs, i see that the connection point in each one of these very different stories is that i'm in the footnotes.
this immediately makes me go, "WHAT?" and it's sort of this... vague what?. it's this random yell out at the foot of a cliff accompanied by a dramatic echo. it's not directed towards God. or anyone in my family. or my boyfriend. or someone i know. it's just to the air.
and the air responds to me with gorgeous leaves and delightful kisses underneath a really gorgeous new york city sky on a chilly night and beautiful babies and apologetic emails from a really broken man who is just trying to do his best but is flawed and getting older and has his own complicated history.
so i guess life is still just really pretty.
in the same vein as my last post on the indefatigable love and pursuit of God in my life, i find now that i'm in this weird, hyper-aware-of-my-common-denominator-ness, phase of my story. the kind that feels frustrating. the kind that feels sort of like when you used to play pipe line and the green goo started coming out at every try. damn i hated that green goo.
i look at one of the dearest people i've ever known and see them experiencing disappointment after disappointment followed by loss - and i see that i'm in that. i look at the love of my life running into walls and being so persistent to break through even just one - and i see that i'm in that. i look at my family and the crossroads we're at as a whole - and i see that i'm in that. and when i do one of those peer downs, i see that the connection point in each one of these very different stories is that i'm in the footnotes.
this immediately makes me go, "WHAT?" and it's sort of this... vague what?. it's this random yell out at the foot of a cliff accompanied by a dramatic echo. it's not directed towards God. or anyone in my family. or my boyfriend. or someone i know. it's just to the air.
and the air responds to me with gorgeous leaves and delightful kisses underneath a really gorgeous new york city sky on a chilly night and beautiful babies and apologetic emails from a really broken man who is just trying to do his best but is flawed and getting older and has his own complicated history.
so i guess life is still just really pretty.
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