I was in San Francisco on Friday and woke up at 5 am, unable to get back to sleep. I crept downstairs for coffee and found myself in a quiet, magical world full of Christmas ornamentation, gingerbread delights and Holiday music from the 40s. I was the only one up in the Fairmont Hotel lobby…and I felt like Eloise. Or someone from Downton Abbey. Or little orphan Annie in a Warbucks palace. It was a magical morning.
Fast forward a few hours.
I heard about Friday morning’s tragedy exactly two minutes before I boarded the four-hour flight home. While my usual first reaction (besides shock and confusion) is to dive in and read everything about this unfathomable tragedy..as if that would help me understand how in the hell this happened…that was rendered impossible on a flight with no wifi. So I was saved from myself. I was up in the air for hours with no information. In the end, it was a gift.
I had this prayer in my head the entire flight and I haven’t been able to stop saying it all weekend.
And I don’t really want to stop saying it ever.
Friday was a series of touchstone moments for me. I’m sure we all feel that in our own ways. But I think it was a reminder for me about the beauty of sacred spaces, the intense significance of the things we hold sacred, and the power of acknowledging all of it.
I think it also has to do with being in a mindset of thankfulness. I need to work on this. And today I talk about how to raise a thankful kid over at Hitting Refresh. I’m learning, I’m learning.
I hope your day is full of peace and thanksgiving. And really, it can be, because we can still choose that for ourselves. No matter how ridiculous things are getting, we can still create that sacred space and choose to live in it. I believe that.
Make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, joy.
Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi