Monday Moments: Blessings
I’m not a fan of cacti, really. Living down here in the sub-tropical/near-to-desert climate that is Los Angeles, I should embrace them. (Well, you know, figuratively – unless I want to see how long it will take me to dab Bactine on a thousand stings.) They use water with enviable efficiency, they grow in the sandiest of soil, and they can do without fertilizer altogether. For someone like me, who doesn’t like dirt under her fingernails, they are the perfect plant. When I look at the cactus in front of my condo complex, however, I usually only see a stodgy, unromantic piece of plant life that needs nothing and gives nothing in return.
Once in a great while, though, the plant turns philanthropic, and bursts into bloom. The flowers seem to sprout out of nowhere, and then one day, a week or two later, disappear again. A great blessing put in my life, for no particular reason.
Some of the greatest blessings in life are like that. You find yourself on a path covered in prickly obstacles, a place you’d rather not have been, only to find a blessing suddenly staring you in the face. Then, just as you’ve realized what a blessing this is, it leaves again. The older I get, the more I realize that there is no point in measuring the difficulties to see whether the blessings are worth it, or in clinging to the blessings to keep them with me. They will come and they will go. All I can do is take in the full wonder of them while they are with me, and look forward to the next one.
For no matter how many pointed ends lie in the way, there will be another.
Kimberly wrote this blog with a cat sitting on her wrists while she typed. She will appreciate the warm fur, despite the burden of ten pounds of cat in an inopportune place.