an ordinary Thursday, until it wasn't

Most of today was an ordinary Thursday.

I cleaned the church building this morning,

came home and made lunch,

walked two miles,

and stopped to work at the Mission Thrift Store for a few hours.

It closed and someone knocked on the door-

a friend Anita used to work with at KCU Maintenance.

They chatted. 

I continued puttering at a few things I'd been working on.

I finished and walked to the door.

I knew the person and haven't seen them in years so I stopped to say hi, 

as opposed to saying excuse me and walking past without any other greeting.

That was when the day shifted.

He wanted to talk about Bill and how much he missed him.

He told me what a positive, encouraging, influential person Bill was in his life.

I am far enough removed from fresh grief at this point 

that normally I am glad to hear words like the ones he was speaking.

But this evening?

For an unexplainable reason,

this evening was different.

The longer he spoke the more air was sucked out of the room,

the closer the walls got,

the harder my heart pounded,

the sadder I felt.

We said our goodbyes and I headed home-

tears pooled, begging to be released. 

It was twenty seven degrees and the wind was blowing.

I didn't want my face to freeze,

so I swallowed them down.

I was well on my way to starting a pity party for myself.

Until God began throwing confetti around-

not enough to be a snow globe walk,

but enough flakes to get my attention 

and cause my heart to recognize it for what it was-

gifts gently swirling, dancing, all around me, 

hugging my heart, reminding me of His tender love and care for me.