It's hard to not become almost unnecessarily sentimental when seasons change.
It's hard to read CS Lewis and not be left thinking deep and admiring his talent for arranging words.
I'm such an ordinary egg. Sometimes I'm decent and other times I'm... ew.
But it sure makes me think.
Both healthy, challenging thoughts and those unnecessarily sentimental thoughts.
I think about how we all want to "fly." We - I - want to be happy, soaring and strong.
And yet, when those promised changes come along that take me out of my oh-so-talked about "comfort-zone," and my warm little egg is cracking, and I'm a slimy mess on a dry, stickly nest,
I would so often prefer to go back into my ordinary, decent, comfortable, safe egg.
How is it so possible to want "the best" and also want "the safe" so simultaneously?
Yup. You do.
Funny AND hopeful, scary, exhilarating, lovely, dreary and weird... oh yes.
One day you wake up and you're 21. And the next day you wake up and you're 21. And the day after you are 21. Days and days and days. Until one day you wake up and you are 22.
One day you wake up and meet a stranger.
The next day when you wake up you tell someone about the stranger you met.
And then the next day you don't think twice about the stranger.
But one day, 53 wake-ups later, the stranger has started to become your friend. Or did they start to become your friend that very first day when you met? When did they go from "stranger" to "friend"?
Then you look back and the stranger is almost more a part of your life then you are.
In the meantime, a lovely friend you had when you were 21 has become a stranger.
And your car has 21,901 more miles on it, chauffeuring you around little and big life destinations.
And maybe you weigh three more pounds then you did when you were 21.
And you don't really think flag-bunting is as charming as it used to be.
And you realize that you actually love sour-cream, even though you didn't when you were 21.
Perhaps you even like hugging much more then you did when you were 21.
But now you are 22, and everything is different, though you woke up just the same every day.
That is sometime a very hard thing to remember.
Especially when you think you are the artist.
But the Artist does such a perfect job with His pictures.
I can't wait to see it.
Enjoy your sentimental-ordinary-(or-not)-experience-gaining-picture-painting Monday where you woke up and lived.
Ps. Someone worked really hard and spent a lot of hours and money on this.
People are so special ;) And I love them.