Pot Of Soup

Blessings are seldom things that I can hold in my hand, but every so often there is the paradoxical gift that is so much more than it appears to be.

I write about my life and suddenly find myself rescued by people I barely know who won't take no for an answer. Suddenly what appeared to be hopelessly miserable begins to seem, not only possible, but kind of fun.

The universe is always filled with light. It is just that sometimes I see it and sometimes I don't. And then, every so often, there is a blast of light that sends me straight to the source. Just a reminder, I guess, that it really isn't all about me, or up to me, or from me. This world is one big pot of soup and the One with the big spoon is so much greater than any of us swirling around down here.