Lent 2013, Day 22: Great Expectations

I had exited my Metro station and was rushing toward dinner with a dear friend when I first noticed him–a man in his thirties, wearing a camouflage outfit and muttering under his breath. I didn’t give him a whole lot of thought, just nodded when he opened the door for me as I headed toward the skyway bridge. He said something, but I was moving too fast to listen.

A few yards later, I was forced to slow down; the escalator was only wide enough for one person, and about a dozen souls in front of me weren’t climbing. Then I heard muttering behind me. When I turned around it was camouflage man. He grinned at me and said, “Any day’s a good day if you’re not under ground.”

As I walked the two or so remaining blocks to the restaurant, I pondered his words. Maybe I look for the wrong things in my definition of a “good day”–a trouble-free commute, true love, praise from the boss or a friend, even that the weather gods are going to cooperate to give me a day off work. Am I too quick to term a day “horrible” simply because not everything went according to my wishes? Maybe I can learn patience from Metro delays. Maybe I can learn to consider the validity of the feedback I get before I beat myself up for not being perfect in their eyes. Maybe I can shrug off sloughing through the snow.

And maybe, just maybe, I can appreciate God’s wisdom and assistance even when it comes in the form of a muttering man in a camouflage suit who tells me to slow down long enough to be grateful I get to do it all over again the next day.