After church I headed uptown to visit the senior citizen who helps keep my Scrabble skills sharp.
It was drizzly, hat-wearing weather outside, but inside her apartment was calm and cozy. We ate authentic Hungarian Chicken Paprikash while watching figure skating on TV.
And I thought, "Am I having the perfect day?!"
Afterwards, as we set up the Scrabble board, she told me how she had recently chatted with an old friend of hers in Hungary, and then had felt compelled to contact the boy (now an octogenarian) that she and her friend once fought over. So she tracked down this fellow and phoned him up (she is quite bold like that) and they reconnected.
She asked him: "Do you remember how you told me that I was a good kisser?"
And he said: "You'll have to forgive me - I'm 82 and I don't remember so well anymore."
Oh, the sadness of getting older and forgetting kisses...
Two games of Scrabble later, I set off into the not-quite-evening air. I grabbed coffee to keep me warm on my walk across the park, and called my parents for our weekly check-in. Side-stepping puddles around the Reservoir as I headed west, I learned about all the goings-on in my hometown.
Family still on my mind, I found myself at a small farmer's market on the other side of the park and purchased some Ida Red apples - my grandmother's name was Ida. It seemed fitting. I miss her most at this time of year.
I reached my apartment just in time to grab a warmer jacket and head out again to join my roommate for a Sunday evening movie. And my day ended with good company and happy distractions.
I write all this down as a record to remind myself that - on this Sunday in autumn - I felt ok. I felt carried through my day. I felt connected. I felt amply provided for.
I still didn't have answers to my questions. I still didn't possess those things I am most longing for. But it was ok. And I was ok. It was enough, on this Sunday: the coffee and the walk and the talks and the games and the movie and the apples and the city. And God, who created all of it and set each on my path this day.
And, since I want (and need) to remember that feeling of okayness come Monday, I write it down here.
“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him."
The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.” (from Lamentations)