A Sweet Refrain

  I was in the checkout line, looking a little rough in a rugged ponytail, worn tee, and old yoga pants.  I was feeling rough on the inside too.  Actually, I think jagged is a better descriptor.

Yep, I was feeling jagged inside; sharp, pointy, scratchy, and craggy.
 I imagined myself as a thousand pointed icicles putting Greek yogurt on the checkout conveyor belt.  (a ridiculous feat to be sure.)

I took a deep breath.
I tried to reframe.
I took a deep breath.
I tried to reframe.
I took a deep breath

and listened.

There it was under the muzac of the store, under my icicles of ego glass, under my attempts to reframe....

 peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.

Ah, there it was. My needed sweet refrain.

peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.

I smiled at the kid in the cart behind me bugging his mom for a candy bar.

I was not jagged.  (Of course the ponytail and the "I need to do laundry" ensemble had not changed.  I was kind of hoping that such an internal epiphany would equal a Wonder Woman outfit but no such luck.)


I asked those who love me to pray for peace this past week.  I meant for them to pray for those who were lost and hurting.

Luckie me, my loved ones are generous in all things including prayer.

Luckie me, God's intent was louder than the piped in Beyonce in Giant.