Small graces...

I reach for them on the edge of my messy.

Drummer boy and I stopped at our favorite café this morning before our weekly trip to the farmer’s market. Our fave café happens to be what supports our little non-profit. We opened it two years ago knowing nothing about the café business except for the fact that we like, I mean love, coffee. We stopped by there this morning to drop off some mu mu muesli that we picked up from one of our vendors at the farmer’s market. We sell it at our café. We sell lots of local stuff there…peanut brittle, spices, jams, just to mention a few. There is always something that needs to be fixed in this 4500 sq. ft. building and since drummer boy is also maintenance man a “stop by” can be a bit lengthy. Today was no different. Apparently a little “something” decided that our dry storage area would be the perfect place to build a home (which is code for nest), right through the wall. Maintenance man needed to shut down the project before it became occupied. Since it was a one man job I decided to visit a bit with café manager’s wife who is the sweetest woman ever. She is adorable with two equally adorable little boys. She told me that her oldest boy asks God (every day) if he can see heaven. He melted my heart. I told him we can see pieces of heaven in the every day. We just need to look for them.

And then I asked myself…do I?

Do I look for them in my every day or am I so overwhelmed and burdened and anxiety ridden that I am completely unaware?

I spent the rest of the day collecting them in my butterfly net.

Here are just a few…

Giggling grandbabies, a spring flower peeping through a neglected garden, the kindness of motorists waving all the motorcycles through an intersection, seeing Venus and Jupiter from our deck, chirping birds before dawn, our inherited dog that always loves to see us come home, freshly painted steps, flip flops in March, day dreaming with drummer boy, a noise filled café, sleeping with the windows open, clouds parting in the sky with the sun shining through, a neighbor taking care of his elderly parents, rice pasta that taste like real pasta…

Ok, so I don't know if flip flops or gluten free pasta are pieces of heaven but I do know that opening my heart to the sweet simple things of today helps me to breathe easier.

I can do this...one small grace at a time.