Fine-tuning "fine"….

be inspired

“So how are things?”
I’m casually asked.
I know the rote response is “fine”
~with a lilt if I mean it.
~with a measured sigh if I don’t.
Even “hard, but fine”
doesn’t break the rules.

And yet the question
oddly tickles my soul
so instead of sliding into autopilot
I play with the response in my mind
to see what actually fits.

“Well, I have a whole passel of problems.
Really.
Just a plethora of conundrums without obvious solutions.
And I’m feeling intimidated by them
even as I stand here smiling as if I’m on top of things.
Which I’m not.

And yet,
September is singing over me.
And there are real apples at the farm stand
-not the polished Stepford apples in the grocery store,
but freckled and dimpled and blushed.

And there is the sound of sweet soft wood being split for kindling.
And the unrushed sound of a broom slowly sweeping.
And the way wildflowers are spilling down embankments
now that the nights are turning cooler.
(And there is so much more pie nowadays.)

And I just found a pair of reading glasses on my head
right when I wanted to really see the print.
And there were these awesome glass doorknobs on the bathroom door in the back of that store
…..ones like I hope to have someday.

Lots of things are looking bright.
Pansies have just arrived; I can’t help grinning as I greet their pretty faces once again.
And I found the first just right stocking stuffer
and set hopeful baskets in the closet to collect the others to come.

And just this one day I’ve seen twinkle lights on trees,
sleeping bags soaking in fresh wild air on the clothesline
and a pile of stones carefully stacked by little hands
(more beautiful than anything I ever saw in an art museum).

And there were smiles exchanged between strangers,
and the way curiosity lifted me up past the weight of some fears,
and a leaf falling softly on my windshield at a stop light.

And bubbling and brewing inside of me
is the story of the woman who pushed past discouraging things
to break open her alabaster heart
and pour it out at the feet of Love wrapped in skin.

Because she saw all that was real and beautiful in Him
~she saw her everything.
The fragrance of that love drifts over me
even while other things rust and unravel.

And somehow my heart joins with hers
and sees a bit more clearly
which things have longevity
and deserve my attention and gratitude
(And which things don’t).

So I guess I’d have to say that things are, well,
they’re fascinating…..stunning……gorgeous……brilliant!
I’m in a good place.
Things are fine.”

 

Fine-tuning “fine”….

be inspired

“So how are things?”
I’m casually asked.
I know the rote response is “fine”
~with a lilt if I mean it.
~with a measured sigh if I don’t.
Even “hard, but fine”
doesn’t break the rules.

And yet the question
oddly tickles my soul
so instead of sliding into autopilot
I play with the response in my mind
to see what actually fits.

“Well, I have a whole passel of problems.
Really.
Just a plethora of conundrums without obvious solutions.
And I’m feeling intimidated by them
even as I stand here smiling as if I’m on top of things.
Which I’m not.

And yet,
September is singing over me.
And there are real apples at the farm stand
-not the polished Stepford apples in the grocery store,
but freckled and dimpled and blushed.

And there is the sound of sweet soft wood being split for kindling.
And the unrushed sound of a broom slowly sweeping.
And the way wildflowers are spilling down embankments
now that the nights are turning cooler.
(And there is so much more pie nowadays.)

And I just found a pair of reading glasses on my head
right when I wanted to really see the print.
And there were these awesome glass doorknobs on the bathroom door in the back of that store
…..ones like I hope to have someday.

Lots of things are looking bright.
Pansies have just arrived; I can’t help grinning as I greet their pretty faces once again.
And I found the first just right stocking stuffer
and set hopeful baskets in the closet to collect the others to come.

And just this one day I’ve seen twinkle lights on trees,
sleeping bags soaking in fresh wild air on the clothesline
and a pile of stones carefully stacked by little hands
(more beautiful than anything I ever saw in an art museum).

And there were smiles exchanged between strangers,
and the way curiosity lifted me up past the weight of some fears,
and a leaf falling softly on my windshield at a stop light.

And bubbling and brewing inside of me
is the story of the woman who pushed past discouraging things
to break open her alabaster heart
and pour it out at the feet of Love wrapped in skin.

Because she saw all that was real and beautiful in Him
~she saw her everything.
The fragrance of that love drifts over me
even while other things rust and unravel.

And somehow my heart joins with hers
and sees a bit more clearly
which things have longevity
and deserve my attention and gratitude
(And which things don’t).

So I guess I’d have to say that things are, well,
they’re fascinating…..stunning……gorgeous……brilliant!
I’m in a good place.
Things are fine.”