During my childhood, it used to bother me that my birthday came in winter. This may have had more to do with schoolwork than weather; nowadays, though, around here at least, the typical chill gray of the season could be considered a negative factor.
Today, however, I walked out my door to find bright summer sunshine, despite the frost on the ground. I drove up to the DOL to get my driver's license renewed, since it expired today (I procrastinate a lot, in case any of you didn't notice), and though the DOL wouldn't be my usual favorite choice of locations to kick off any special day, Joe at the counter treated me very kindly and I got a picture that won't disgrace me horribly for the next five years.
For some reason I'm in a happy mood. No, not for some reason, but for many reasons: sunshine and laughter and hope and love and peace, a riotously funny evening with a pack of great girlfriends last night, time set aside to spend with my family and the Saint this afternoon, simple prayers and blessed joys.
The day is young, and for some reason I find myself haunted--as often happens when the purest happy moments come over me--by the fear of its being marred or shattered as I know can happen in a matter of seconds. Everybody has their besetting sins, I guess; fear is mine. "Do not worry," Jesus said, "because who of you by worrying can add a single cubit to his life's span?"
So I'm going to stop. And I will go put my sheets in the wash and play my guitar or piano a bit and enjoy the fact that, after three weeks of having a cold, I can finally sing again. The return of my voice is no small gift to me; I've missed it dreadfully.
This prayer--perhaps my favorite of all the new little rites of Christian worship that I've learned in the past two months--speaks my thoughts beautifully today. I am overwhelmed by thankfulness.
"Glory be to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning,
is now and ever shall be,
world without end,