good day

The city is wrapped in a beautiful white coat. For the time being the wind is quelled and the air is so still, sun so warm, all of life feels like a movie set. Great flakes of snow land on hats and scarves and windshields and people are acting out the verses of silver bells on every corner. There's this feeling of anticipation and calm Sunday bliss that floats around town and settles into cozy, steamed-up coffee shop windows.
I feel like doing nothing but smiling or napping or seeing people I know today. I feel known today. I feel hopeful. I feel unworthy of the peace and the blessings and the hope, but I'm too tired to over analyze it. I just want to take them in, the blessings and the hopes, and rest. I want to extend it over to you. I want to give you this little piece of my cozy bed, this perfect line in a mindless novel, this sense that there's someone controlling the shmoz that's thumbing his nose just behind this sunset, waiting menacingly on Monday morning. And so we don't have to worry because it's all being taken care of.
Today I got to deposit $8,930 into my bank account. I had to shake my head at the girl who wondered how this money could possibly appear. I had to ask that girl where her faith is. It's coming, she tells me, it's building. And I hope for her sake, that she's right. This trip into the insanity, poverty, sadness, hopelessness needs to be laced with faith.
I can't consider it today. I just have to sit here. Glowing from an evening spent with old friends who bless my heart with their words and their love and their support. Smiling from the warm embrace of family that I now always seem to feel at church. Giggling that my friend Carissa has finally come home and Callie doesn't have TB and not everything is doomed. No, we've got a God who loves us very much indeed. Time to live loved.