It’s Monday morning, and deliciously stormy outside. I look out the office windows to the east, where the land stretches flat all the way to Kansas, and see clouds the color of polished steel. I’m alone at work this week, sipping on hot tea to placate the angry porcupine that wants to nest on my throat.
Yesterday at church, I saw 6 people whose names I knew. I got hugs from 4 of them. It’s nice to have people who know your name.
Later on, as I drove up a windy road to Evergreen, what’s left of the leaves on the trees blustered and blew, twinkling in the wind, matching the shade of the double-yellow lines on the blacktop. I found a network of trails and went on an easy hike, dreamed of having a dog, and watched the sky as it did things like this.
It’s easy to feel small and alone – but that doesn’t mean that we have to feel afraid.