The State of Things


The white ironstone pitcher on the dining room table droops dead stems of cream-colored flowers.Those flowers began to wilt last Sunday, the day after I picked them. I was after a pot full of farmhouse lovely and I got it … for one whole day.

But there’s beauty in that day, beauty which must not be discounted  or dismissed. Because no matter how fleeting, beauty blesses and sustains us.  I’m learning such bounty is brief. Those moments where life is full, and fun, and in beautiful bloom must be recognized, appreciated, and remembered.


Because some other moments might not be quite so beautiful. Still full and still to be appreciated … but not quite like the picture in the magazine … or like the one in my mind.

After this week’s end-of-school-year busy, today’s bounty is laundry,  piled or basketed – clean and dirty.  There’s another stack of real life in each kitchen sink.  I’ve emptied my book bag everywhere: books, notebooks, lesson plans, student journals and work blossoming on the floors and tables in three different rooms. Life feels fussy and fragmented.  I haven’t had a minute to empty that crock of dead flowers, so there it sits. Nothing is where it’s supposed to be and I don’t care.


I don’t care because I will notice moments of beauty, scattered here and there like petals past their prime. I know moments of order, simplicity, and peace follow the moments of chaos, clutter, and stress.

And I’ll be ready for them.

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