Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Purple notes

At work I get to talk to lots of interesting people about things that range from interesting to, well, not. Today I spent two hours walking with a guy through and around a huge building to look at sprinkler risers.

If the whole of my job consisted of conversation and the occasional trek through a warehouse it would be pretty much perfect. However, as nothing this side of Heaven is perfect, my chats and treks are a means to gather information, which I then must put into a report.

I love to write, it's true. But reports are to writing what brussels sprouts dipped in prune juice are to food.

However, recently I discovered a trick that makes the note-taking and report-writing less sprouty. It was an accident, really. I couldn't find my trusty blue ballpoint, so I pulled out a sparkly purple "I like to write" pen and took copious sparkly, purple notes. Later, when I had to type them up, I realized that glamorous ink is way less boring to read than plain blue. Now all my note sheets are covered in colors of the rainbow and the occasional doodle.

It's not unlike life on the grander scale. There are tasks, days, even seasons of life that are about as interesting as a report on fire sprinklers.  We have to go through them. We know it. But if we're not careful, the drudgery will drive us to try and pierce body parts with that stupid ballpoint pen, just for something to do.  

Thankfully, there is a breath of color that can make those brussels sprout moments less sour, if not thrilling. Yes, I speak of God. He makes all of life more fun, more colorful. When I take my eyes off the drudge and pry myself free of circumstance, there is a whole lot to be amazed at. God himself. He's funny, creative, and brilliant.  And while he's always more than enough, he also reminds me of the little joys. Like trees and sweatshirts and the way Buckley is about to hyperventilate trying to catch a bug on the other side of the sliding door. And even colored pens.

Thank you, Lord, my dearest, for my job, for colors, for living in an era where ink comes in gobs of shades.  Thank you for fun moments and fun days and fun years. Thank you for walking through them with me, and not just those times, but the blah times as well--or more accurately, the times I'm tempted to be blah.  Please don't let me. Forgive me for taking any day for granted. Color my life and sparkle in it. Let me not fixate on circumstances, even good ones, and miss out on you.  All my love.

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