You know how people ask, "How are you?" You know how they don't really want to know? They're just being courteous and offering a welcome, and in order to hold up your end of the bargain you have to give a firm, double-pump handshake, offer as genuine a smile as possible and say, "fine" or some other bland affirmative?
I'm not dissing the process. It would be weird to start business meetings talking about the weights and joys in my mind. It's an attempt to be thoughtful.
But, sometimes, we're not fine. Sometimes we're ecstatic! Got a promotion! Found a quarter on the ground! Got hit on by the valet guy! (Gotta take what you can get sometimes.)
And sometimes we're tragic wads of humanity wearing a 2-carat smile.
Everywhere outside that beige slice of "fine" it could get a little lonely. Except for the fact that God gets it. I mean, really gets it. He sees it through our eyes. Knows why a broken nail, a diagnosis, or what someone said impacts us as it does. Knows the thrill of getting that email, sharing a chat, or achieving a goal. Knows precisely how all of it feels.
And, even better, he doesn't sit by and watch, but will go with us through it and carry the grief, or throw spiritual confetti. The catch for me is being willing to get past the automated "fine" message. If I don't invite him to the party, He's not going to force His way in. And I love that too because it means so much more that He respects my wishes and wants to come.
Thank you, God for knowing. For caring. For the hankies you offer when I cry, for the high-fives and chest bumps after victories. I love sharing life with you.