November 21st, 2006


Missed beauty and forgotten covenants

Yesterday I worked from home after arriving at the office to discover that a key had been broken off in the door lock. I just wasn't up for waiting two to three hours for the locksmith's arrival, nor did I want to schlep home and back again on the bus, especially with my cumbersome Sunday supply bag in tow. Thankfully, I work in a job with enough flexibility to accommodate a bit of telecommuting, and my afternoon meeting was also amenable to a change of venue (to Irwin's). All in all, a nice glass of lemonade from what might have otherwise been a pretty crappy batch of Monday lemons.

One of the errands my absence delayed was the delivery of documents to an office downtown. John volunteered to bring them along as it was on his way for a lunch meeting, but when that was cancelled, the duty returned to me. Rather than hassle with the time, trouble, and cost of a messenger service, I opted just to zip downtown and get it done. This decision treated me to a gorgeous view of a full rainbow over Lake Union on my return trip. I wouldn't put it past God to orchestrate it all for just that reason. There is indeed a conspiracy of good afoot.

Perhaps the oddest part was being on that bus, seeing that glorious rainbow, and seeing that no one else saw it. I looked around, wanting to tell someone, and everyone was otherwise engaged—some in reading materials, some in personal electronics, some in cramped personal dramas, some simply in being unavailable for interruption on public transit. I wonder if most of us are like that most of the time, missing what's really being revealed around us. And I wonder when I should just go ahead and interrupt people so they have a chance to see what they're missing.