Sometimes it is spectacular and sometimes quite un-spectacular.
I think one of reasons I enjoy reading fiction so much...
or should I say, reading the type of fiction that I read...
is that it very frequently all dove tails nicely into place.
The good guy wins. The heroine gets kissed.
The orphan gets adopted by the rich family with the older brother
she always longed for.
You know, the fantastic ending. The concurrence of all the fates falling
happily into place by page 267.
I think I lean so heavily toward this type of fiction because
somedays I would like to re-write my life.
I need a bit more dove tailing.
Like on Monday when I was walking with my friend Melissa
and a bird pooped on my face. That's not a happy ending. Nosiree.
Or when Addison stomped on my flowers that I had just planted...
JUST PLANTED...sending them to flower heaven...
Or when Scott asked me if he could put something in the blender
for a sermon illustration on Sunday...that should never go in a blender...
even if it is to illustrate how Jesus is pure like water and the things
we add to him are not pure...even then. Cuz you just don't put terrible
things in the blender. Nope. Cuz we eat things out of the blender.
But then there are the moments,
like when Jack woke me on Sunday morning with a serving bowl filled
with Life cereal and a plate with yogurt and cinnamon toast and
strawberries and said,
"It's time for your BIB, Mom. Breakfast in bed. Happy Mother's Day."
Or when Scott whisked me away for the night to San Francisco
to see the Giants game and to eat hot dogs and drink a six dollar coke
and stay in a hotel in Union Square.
Or seeing Will's face when I picked him up from preschool
and even though I had only been away one measley night,
he hugged me like he hadn't seen me for a year and a half.
Just leave it the way it is. Don't touch a word of it.
And let me soak it right up.
Because, you know, you have to sit back and enjoy it
when you get the happy ending.