Friday was rushed, crammed with work deadlines, more changes at the church I love, and a rather violent attempt to throw the right blend of possessions in my car to make sure I could clothe myself and entertain a house full of 12-18 year old girls for the weekend. I left home around 1 to avoid the endemic traffic of rush hour Fridays, but I brought the world with me. I played out hard conversations in my mind, alternating between yelling my frustrations and attempting dignified acceptance of the circumstances that felt pressure-cooked by Friday-at-5 deadlines. I parked at a Starbucks halfway between DC and the middle of nowhere. I pulled out my laptop. I fielded calls from my boss. I wrote. I edited. I focused. And then, I hit send and was done.
But turning off my computer is so much easier than turning off my mind. My mind wanted to fight with God. To rest instead of serve. But as the traffic waned and the ground rose and the road swayed and turned, I rolled down the windows and the world and the God who made her spoke peace to my heart. For 50 miles of farms and main streets, I inhaled shalom and exhaled myself.
I arrived to the sounds of children laughing, music playing, and rocking chairs creaking under the weight of souls at rest. And when evening came, I could see the stars.
All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
Julian of Norwich