Instances of Grace

For most of us, there is only the unattended moment . . .
--T. S. Eliot

As with many of you, I'm sure, I'm lurching forward with no relief in sight until a few weeks into December. I want to say that I really appreciate the posts our community has added to the blog this past week or so. I'm posting now (postponing designing an assignment for Monday and revising my paper on George Herbert's prophetic voice and learning to translate Spanish to English) to share some (spiritual) images from the past month, instances of grace in pressure:

• It snowed a few inches yesterday. Okay, a few centimeters.
  
• Two weeks ago I visited a monastery and went on a day trip with two old monks and one young monk to the mountains to see the leaves and on the way back we stopped at Wendy's and ate frosties together. "I think God wanted you to come with us today," the younger monk told me.
  
• This morning, I got to stop my work for a few minutes to do laundry, and there was also an crotchety-looking man at the laundromat doing laundry. He told me, "I don't like doing laundry. This is two weeks worth. Have a good day." I bet he was an angel God sent to remind me how much I do like doing laundry.
  
• Yesterday, I visited a literature class a friend of mine is teaching at baptist seminary to talk about Allen Ginsberg's "Howl" and "Footnote to Howl." "Everything is holy. The bum is as holy as the seraphim," Ginsberg told them. "All truth is God's truth," I told them.
• We're expecting another baby in April. Some of you already knew this. Two days ago, Christine and I went to the doctor's for an ultrasound. It's another little girl. But before he told us that, the doctor got caught up looking at the her little beating heart. "Sorry," he told us, "I'm obsessed with hearts."

Paul Corrigan