August 14, 2013
Pulling up the side of the ancient rug in the biggest bedroom and there it is, wedged in the wood, an ancient looking penny. I laugh out loud. I still find them everywhere and usually when I am in a state of in between, going from one mood to another, a time of flux and that trepidation for the next step, or just, like now, so many changes all at once and trying to figure out which rock to step on in the rushing stream, which one won't wobble. I find them when they are needed. I find them waiting for me on a car seat, inbetween rocks at a swimming hole, on the carpet where I have just walked where they were not before. All these years later, they are still there, true directions for me, more sure than any compass. Praise God, I say when I pick them up. And with that small piece of grace that is such a larger act of kindness and reassurance, I can step on to the next rock without fear. Praise God. The original essay I refer to was in two different Chicken Soup for the Soul books...here is a link to it online that someone posted.