Some Days are Just Easier

Some days are just easier than others.

Yesterday was one of those days.

A day where things flowed.  It was sunny, I had an amazing coffee appointment with a new friend.  I sent out resumes and felt hopeful about them.  I knew deep joy and peace.  I felt like myself.  I laughed via email with a dear friend, and discovered a dream about the future deep within me.  I talked about twirling and tattoos and the fact that the word hope in Spanish is nearly the same as Italian, and a friend had encountered that translated word in a place she'd recently revisited in Malta.  I was laughing at the idea of ducks totally out of line, or missing entirely.

Today is a harder day.

A day where I kind of want to cry.  It's raining and cold.  I've been wrapped in a blanket since arriving at my parent's house this morning, eaten soup and a toasted cheese bun, and have my feet propped on the warm power adapter for my laptop, and I still can't get warm.  I'm having a flair up of some health problems.  I'm kind of lonely.  I'm thinking about routines and revamping life, and kind of want to scrap everything and run away, even though I know deep within me that that won't fix anything.  The dreams deep within have begun to be researched and I'm resigning myself to the knowledge that they likely won't be as instantly acted upon as I would like.  Where I'm sending out resumes but having a hard time not being fatalistic about the job hunt, even though I've really only been actually putting my resume out there for a couple of days.

And I'm having to remind myself that this is how life works.  That some days are just easier, but I'm responsible for choosing how I respond whether the day is easy or hard.   That I have to choose joy and life on the cold, rainy, lonely days just as much as on the sunny, warm, flowing days.  That just because it's harder and the circumstances seem huge doesn't mean that it's not still my choice.  That sometimes routines are important, and perhaps I should re-engage them.  But also that some need to go.  That discipline, a word I've hated for years, a word that has been used as a weapon against me, describing all of my failings, maybe isn't a bad thing in every situation.  That it might be a good thing here.

I'm having to remind myself that there are little things to celebrate even on the cold and lonely days.  That I'm inside and warm.  That I'm wrapped in a blanket.  That I am loved - by God and by friends.  That tonight I will get to join my house church for the first time in several weeks, and we'll talk and pray and enjoy each other's company, and meet with God.  That there can be hugs in this day - spontaneous ones, but that there are people around who I can ask for a hug as well.  That I'm housesitting, and thereby having a break from the challenges of life at Grandma's.  That yesterday was beautiful and that beautiful days will come again.  And that in between those truly beautiful moments, I can choose to find beauty, too.  To find joy and hope and life.

Some days are just easier, and today isn't one of them.  And that's okay too.  Because I'm choosing to celebrate God anyway.