Seeing God in the Ordinary

It had been One of Those Days. The stress level at work had been exceptionally high, there was an unexpected expense at home, emails from both kids’ colleges announced a tuition hike, and I had cheated on my diet so much that the pants I thought I was going to wear to work wouldn’t zipper up all the way.

My mood after work as I traveled on the Parkway toward my evening class at the Mercer School of Theology could best be described as, well, grumpy. God was nowhere in my mind as I churned on the negative things of the day. “Stupid pants” I grumbled.

Surprisingly, the traffic was cooperative that late afternoon, and I pulled the car into the parking lot with a half hour to spare before needing to be inside. The sun was still up, and it wasn’t too chilly on this early Spring day. Needing a mental adjustment before class, I decided to use the free time to walk about the grounds of the Cathedral.

I headed across the lawn toward a bench in the distant meditation garden, and then sat down when I reached it.  The sun was warm on my face. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and then took another one, using a centering trick taught by a friend. The stress started to melt away.

I opened my eyes and was able to see more clearly around me. The bushes had hints of green showing, the trees had tiny buds. In the middle of the lawn, there was an area where crocuses had started to open, and the leaves of the daffodils had broken through the ground. I walked over, and squatted down to take a closer look at the blossoms – bright colors beamed up at me. One of the flowers had pushed through a small pile of leaves to reach the daylight. I admired the tenacity of the crocus – it didn’t give up, even under challenging growing conditions. A mockingbird sang its repertoire from a nearby tree branch, cheerful even at the end of the day. I remembered positive things from my day: the kindness of a co-worker, a smile from a stranger, the driver who let me cut ahead of him into the long line of traffic. I walked back across the lawn toward the school building.

I sat near the window in the classroom. From my seat, I could see the Cathedral. My eyes surveyed the architecture, and then were drawn to the cross at the top of the spire. Normally bright with the reflection of the sun during the day, the cross was now glowing with the angle of the setting sun. Glowing. It was somehow reassuring, and I knew things would be okay.

If I took the time to look around me, I’ll see God in the miracle of new growth, a smile, a kindness, the song of a bird, the setting of the sun. He’s always with me. Even on a stress filled day, when I push Him out, He shows himself; I only need to open my eyes. I can find Him in simple, ordinary things.

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011