asking for wonder.

Salutations! I hope this evening finds all of you well. I'm currently snuggling in a warm blanket, drinking chamomile  tea and listening to the rain fall on my tin roof.

I had a friend ask me one time: "Why do all girls love the rain?" Now I don't know about all girls, but I do know that rain is one of my favorite things in the entire world. First of all, it's cuddle weather. Which means it's perfectly acceptable to curl up with a good book or movie and not feel guilty about wasting a sunny day. And it gives us puddles to jump in and rainbows to gaze at. But it's more than just a good excuse. Rain is so refreshing- the sound, the smell, the feel. It washes away... it cleanses. 

Rain reminds me that we're not in control. It reminds me that there's something bigger. In short, rain gives me wonder. wonder... the capacity to see and feel awe at beauty in the everyday. It's so simple, so accessible, yet how many of us have it? 

If I could ask for one gift for the world, I think it would be wonder. It may sound small, but I don't see how callousness, impatience, or anxiety could coexist with true wonder. Wonder could be the gateway drug to kindness and compassion and connection and love. 

I would choose a color of the day, but how could one choose a color for wonder? Perhaps a color that changes from the deep blue-green of the sea to the bright yellow of a sunflower to the purplish grey of a mountain and back again. You get my drift?

Praise be to the Lord, for He showed His wondrous love to me.

Psalm 31:21

Soup, snowmen, and sickness

When flu season rolls around, many would describe themselves as "light-headed." I can't relate. My head feels like a bowling ball, my sinuses are as heavy as an elephant and my forehead is made out of solid iron, I swear. I'm coma'd up from medicine and soup, and my designated sitting spot in front of the heater is getting old.

My sickness came on quickly the day after I returned from my mini-Thanksgiving vaca, an after-effect of traveling or perhaps simply the cold weather. Despite my constant complaints, I really enjoyed the northern California weather. Little things like sliding on the icy grass and defrosting the windshield truly melted my heart (but not my fingers, unfortunately).

Blizzard blue: the color of my sickness-induced mood, snowflakes and my toes in the winter. Although I've been called a wimp when it comes to the cold, I am bound and determined to live in a snowy region. I shall strap tennis rackets to my feet and make snowmen from dawn until dusk. But until then, I am bundled from nose to toe as I head out to face the 64-degree San Diego weather. Wish me luck.