Glimpses ~ June 2020

The color of the flowers at my wedding were a disappointment. In that many thought the event was miraculous in itself, this seems a trivial detail. It was a lovely occasion over all. One that we determined was appropriately elaborate for two 30 year old types who might have never matched up in another lifetime. After 23 years though, when I see the color I desired for that day, I take notice. I remember how my Mom asked the florist if there was anything he could do. She's faithful that way, as Dad was too. But there was little to change the color of that flower. Although that florist tried, and when my bouquet was returned to me, unanimously everyone agreed how much better they looked, worried the bride was going to snap. 
But I didn't and we proceeded into our life together, with no idea what delights and disappointments lay ahead. 
Yesterday the perfect flower appeared at Publix. People refer to these type of sightings as 'unicorns,' as do I. I also think of them as 'glimpses' into perfection. Too many at one time and a circus will inevitably occur, tickets must be sold, lights too bright must be illuminated. But these by the wayside 'glimpses' are a gift. 
It would have been ridiculously ungracious of me years ago to have truly complained about the roses, especially in light of the effort to which everyone had gone to in order to make the day so special. I look back on how my parents graciously endured many disappointments- their own, or theirs shared- throughout their lives. If you talked to them, and still talk to Mom now, there is always, always something for which to be thankful. Glimpses, I believe, are what kept them going. Glimpses of Eden and glimpses of Heaven. 
I find myself in the in-between, maybe even the shadowlands. Sorrow will cloud our ability to see the glimpses, especially if we only feed the sorrow. Again, I think about my parents. I am thankful for their persistent effort to press forward into everyday with a renewed spirit, to try to fix the little things, while handling the bigger things in life with patience and perseverance, sorrow or celebration. 
There are so many things I cannot fix right now-- in my home, in my community, in the world. But because tragedy seems to be everywhere does not mean all that was once good - wasn't good. Because unrest seems everywhere, doesn't mean we don't still need rest. We need 'glimpses', moments where the proverbial, yes, spiritual light shines bright. And in that light we may see a 'broken reed' upon which we've been leaning too long, and see behind the bush a ram the Lord intended the entire time, the 'glimpse', the provision, the gift.