. . . without some small pain!
Below you’ll see a slideshow of some of the wonderful pictures Jim took this past week on our traditional visit to the Denver Botanic Gardens “Blossoms of Light” tour which they have during December. (This post was originally written in December 2014. Please note that because this site was moved to a new platform some images were lost, among them, sadly, the pictures for this post.)
Last year we missed it, for some reason. This year they had absolutely outdone themselves. There’s one small drawback to this outing: It’s usually pretty COLD. I’ve gone before wearing a totally inadequate jacket and shivered my way through it. More of an endurance test than a pleasurable outing. This year I made sure to wear my heavy-duty parka and did much better, but 23 degrees is still 23 degrees. I found myself alternately being distracted from the cold by the lovely displays and distracted from the lovely displays by the cold. I’m so glad we made the effort, though. What a great memory, and how little the discomfort really mattered. Don’t we often switch those priorities, though, and concentrate on the small inconveniences and difficulties? I think back to my father’s funeral, for example, which was on the whole a wonderful service. What stands out in my mind the most? The fact that their sound system picks up police scanner transmissions in the area, so periodically the testimonies and the Gospel-filled sermon were interrupted. Later my brother said to me, “Why were you sitting there making faces at me while I was giving my testimony?” I was so irritated and distracted by the sound system’s defects that I irritated and distracted him. I do try any more not to let myself dwell on the imperfections inherent in any human event, but it’s a struggle for me. I’m sure there will be more posts on this topic.
The first sentence of the introduction to my book says, “I just got back from a wonderful women’s retreat.” Well, guess what? I just got back from another one. Really, really great. Food, conversations, speaker, the whole ball of wax and enchilada. But remember how I kind of spoiled things for myself recently because I was so worried that no one was going to show up at a book signing I attended? Well, I just did the same thing this past weekend: I fussed at myself for some very minor missteps. Why wasn’t my packing more organized?
Scribbled on one of the many scraps of paper I accumulate is something from a recent church care group meeting in our home. We get together a couple of times a month to discuss ideas sparked by recent sermons. One of our members mentioned that we humans have the tendency in our thinking to be vague about the problem but specific about the solution, and he gave as an example the above phrase, something he’d gotten from a friend at work.
. . . from a performance of the Cirque du Soleil.
