Small Things

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This week I have been struggling with something that really gets me down. It leaves me in a dark place at times, and yet, even there, there are always the small things. Always a cup of tea made by a friend, always the sunlight on the floor, always the jokes of children and the fulfillment of seeing someone grow in confidence. The smell of lemons, the taste of a meal shared, the words of the Bible bringing me calm direction. Always a story, always a song. Always a sky.

There are some things that will never make sense. Why some people have to run from their homes, live in fear, see their children killed. Why some people have to die so young. Why some people have to live with such crushing loneliness that they don’t want to carry on. Why some people get to marry or have children and others don’t.

The only thing that helps me with these bigger things is that there is something more, something beyond. I was looking out of a window yesterday into a fairly dark alleyway. At the end of it was a beautiful pink sunset over a shimmering river, a bird about to fly. Lights in homes and people walking together and trees and colour. I thought that perhaps the thing to tell myself is to just keep walking, even if it feels like a dark alleyway, focusing on the glimpses of the better, purer, lighter place ahead.

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