I woke up to the sound of a loud voice saying: “RUBLES – ARE YOU AWAKE?” It was my future brother-in-law, calling up the stairs. I unconsciously shrieked “OH NO!” and listened to the laughter below that ensued. “Don’t worry,” my sister assured me; “he’s not coming up.” Then two thoughts rushed through my mind. 1. I must’ve slept in too late, since Jonathan’s here. and 2. This is going to be an awful day.
It was with a glum countenance that I greeted the blustery, autumn-like day. These are my favorite kinds of days. The sun doesn’t just blare through a stark sky. Instead, it flirts with the earth, hiding its face until we’ve thought it’s deserted us for good, and then flashing out and brightening up everything. The clouds above raced, sometimes white fluffy ones, sometimes a huge mass of dark grey that threatened rain. The wind rose and fell, and all of this, with the beat of the earth against space, created a lively, vivacious, vibrant early-autumn day. This was a day to be enjoyed fully in the warmth of the soul, not to be tolerated with indifference. I felt that it must be loved or hated passionately, and justice might be done – but never could it be viewed complacently. It was a day to do things, and feel things, and think new thoughts and ideas. A verse comes to mind .
“His holy mountain, beautiful in elevation, is the joy of all the earth; Mount Zion, in the far north, the city of the great King.”
For some reason, this verse seemed to wrap itself around the day. I love it – how the mountain, beautiful in elevation, is the joy of all the earth. It is the city of the great King, and it is a joy to all the earth. (Odd enough, but my favorite part of this verse is the phrase “in the far north.” It lends a sharp, living expression to the verse.)
God proves us wrong… a lot. My attitude was wrong. My mindset was wrong. It wasn’t very late in the morning, and it wasn’t going to be an awful day. It ended up being a lovely day filled with literature, music, history, teaching, exercise, domestic work, and feeling. I read of the adventures of Robin Hood and his very merry men with Priscilla Ahn in the background, and the rain pounding on my roof, with the wind breathing and sighing through my open window. I feel very ashamed of myself for being such a pessimist. Chesterton described a pessimist as being a person who hates something too much to want to change it, and an optimist as someone who loves something too much to change it. The real optimist must be enough of a pessimist to want to change the thing he loves. I was a pessimist this morning. I had no desire to change, because there was no love for anything. But God convicted me, and sent love thrilling my soul, for the day, for him, for my siblings – for so many things, and with that little swirl of optimism mixed in my tea, I began to change attitudes, like sweat-pants and a hoodie for a dress and heels.
Don’t ever forget that there’s a God in the heavens who cares about you. He is constantly molding me and changing me, ever strengthening me and renewing my mind. I am grateful. Without this, I could never have enjoyed this beautiful, wild day.