Have I mentioned that I am the mom of three teenagers, two of which are girls, 15 and 17, still at home?
Yes. Days are infused with the winsome, willful wildness of teenage girl life, emotions swinging in a range of highs and lows.
Today began with something akin to caterwauling. The reason really matters not.
Sometimes I face the range with a levelness beyond reason.
Today...not so much.
But as I faced Matt, who was saddened that this was my day, God entered in to remind me that this is just one moment; the next would be different - better or worse in turns. This moment doesn't define the day.
So I chuckled driving past Liberty Grove's sign which read:
Take a deep breath.
This is just a bad day.
It isn't a bad life.
(Didn't I mention coincidence yesterday? Burma shave signs on the side of the road?)
Right. But how easy would it be - no, how easy is it - to swirl. To drown in waves of bad moment after bad moment.
How easy, too, it would be to apply any one temper tantrum, any one dramatic scene to the whole of a life. I am also not any one of my actions or dismal moments.
The moment does not define the day.