Comfort Incognito

Last week was tough—full moon, pms, people who want to kill us.

Gotta admit, getting up and hearing first thing about the foiled attempt to blow up several planes simultaneously coming into New York City, did nothing for my mood. Actually, what it did was throw me into a full fledged tailspin.

Having seen the first plane hit the World Trade Center, and then living through the surreal aftermath has probably left me with some kind of low grade post traumatic stress syndrome. When the weather was so beautiful this last weekend, what was going through my head? “What a perfect morning, just like it was on 9/11.” Can we say, “Time to move on?” (Aside: the grammar geek in me thinks that quote looks wrong—shouldn’t it really be “…move on.”? Ok, ok letting it go!)

Anyhoo, I’m much calmer today, in large part to the comfort I found being in church over the weekend. I went to a 10 a.m. service on Sat., which few people attend but which I always love for its quiet intimacy. During the sermon there was a stillness that I can only explain as electric. The priest managed to speak words of wisdom and reassurance while exemplifying all that I could want to be as a priest. Sunday morning was more of the same.

Then this morning my company’s weekly devotional service reminded me that God is still in control and that I need to refocus the eyes of my heart onto things that bring light, hope and beauty into my soul. Now that I think about it, I suspect God’s been comforting me all week long. It just took me a while to clue in.