Really, sometimes, it is. Remember how I gave away a beautiful print and a batch of homemade cookies this past week? There was a random drawing, mostly made up of people who know me in "real" life, and the winner was someone I've never met. Her name is Rebecca, and she lives in Canada. (I know maybe 4 people who live in Canada, total...but this remarkable woman lives there and reads my blog. Imagine that!) She's been working on being thankful lately, mostly because she was recently diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and has been struggling with the limitations of that diagnosis.
I get to mail her a box of cookies and a print that says, "today, I am thankful"- which, somehow, is exactly what she needs to see right now.
Sometimes, you get just what you need, even if it's in a tiny, small way that doesn't really fix anything.
Conversing with Rebecca led me to think back on my own diagnosis of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, which led me to realize that it's been twelve years since that diagnosis. It was my senior year of college, and I couldn't get out of bed. Twelve years ago, I would not have believed that I could work a "regular" job or have children and take care of them or run long distances (or run at all, for that matter). I was a mess. Gradually, we adapted to the diagnosis...we changed our lives to accommodate my new limitations, slowed down and focused on getting me well.
I am well. I am no longer making decisions limited by a mysterious illness that makes me weak and tired and sick.
Now I'm mailing cookies to someone who is almost exactly where I was twelve years ago.
While I was in the midst of baking cookies and thinking about all of this, George called me outside to take a picture of a beautiful rainbow. I took a few shots, but none of them really came out...it was very hazy, and the light wasn't cooperating. I hung out on the porch, testing out some of the settings on my new camera and playing around with the manual focus (something I have never had before now!). I'm a little intimidated by all the things this camera can do, and I have mostly left it on auto this past week since receiving it as a birthday gift from George.
Sitting on the porch this evening and playing with the camera, I saw a tiny spider who has built a web on one of our purple coneflowers. If I hadn't been messing with the manual focus, I wouldn't have seen it at all. I breathed and looked through the camera at the little spider and his flower, and the worries I'd been worrying all day somehow seemed less worrisome.
It's the little things...little, insignificant things that let you know that the universe is unfolding exactly as it is meant to unfold.
|I don't even know how to tell what the settings were for this photo. I'm lost, y'all. Who wants to give me a lesson on how to use the camera properly?|
Go see photos by people who know what they are doing at Clan Donaldson. Today's theme is black and white.