This last week has been hard. Three members of our family were hospitalized. One just got out. One remains. One died.
Even one of these events is enough to cause you to pause, and put life in perspective. All three at once is enough to paralyze you.
Someone very smart once said that life is but a series of trials. We are all either in a trial, just leaving one, or about to enter into one.
I don’t feel that I’m currently in a trial (although one could argue everyday life is a trial). I also don’t feel that I’ve just left a trial. So, that must mean I’m about to go into one.
I could take that and become paranoid about it, or I could choose instead to relish every single morsel of time until then. I could become obsessed with the eventuality of the next trial, or I could choose to be grateful for the moment, and not let the little things in my life swell into a fabricated trial (e.g., not let the fact that Brae has broken the blinds in his room become the central thought of my day).
I know that the next trial is coming. I don’t know when, or what it will be. But, I commit to entering it with grace, enduring it with thanksgiving, and leaving it with a lesson to tell and a helping hand to deliver.