I believe in ribbons and bows

Today was an odd sort of day. Somehow He pushed right through to show me glimpses of delight and hope.

I was late heading out to work this morning - a slow start at home as I struggled to convince myself I could make it through the day. But once I managed to get going, a strange series of events made me realize that hope does not die without a fight and that she fights with an incredibly beautiful sort of strength.

After having sent my little cry of despair into Cyberspace last night, a sms from my Lucy-friend greeted me this morning, quite simply sending love after having read my blog post. The first whisper today, of His love for a rather wobbly heart.

On driving out of our estate into the main street, I was greeted by a long row of primary school children, clad in clusters of brightly coloured T-shirts (per class, I assumed), making their way to Woodlands Mall. I cried as I watched them skip along holding hands, linking arms, hugging. A reminder of a God who knows each of us so very well, for there is little that brings me as much pleasure as children delighting in life.

A quick stop at Seattles for a cappuccino (working on the irresponsible logic that I was late anyway) saw me ending up with a hugely discounted cappuccino in hand. A third ribbon in a day which had only just begun?

The rest of the day continued somehow to be laced with splashes of ribbon, gently beckoning me to dare life's dance again:

• I was actually given a sneak peak into Facebook stats (I cannot explain the delight this brought heart and mind)
• A perfectly-timed visit to Impact Radio's birthday celebration resulted in a brief connect with Celeste Amy (which made my heart feel as though it might just burst!) and
• What could potentially have been a frustrating flurry of last-minute prep for cell tomorrow, ended up being a collaborative team effort (the folks, Rocco and even Christie) resulting in a beautifully planned Driekie-cupcake and much family fun (dad proved to be the cupcake maestro).
• And on the way back home, after opting for the longer route to allow my song to reach its end, I kept the window down between our estate security gates and smiled as that decision resulted in the smell of Jasmine filling every part of me - almost as if He thought it good to seal the day with one of my favourites.

And so, in response to my rather weary post of last night, He laced my day in ways that seemed to say, ‘I see you. I hear you. I know that you’re there. I’ve got this one, Michelle. I’ve got you.’

An apt response is surely this: to put on my dancing shoes again and head tentatively back to the dance floor. The irony didn’t slip me by, that the act of putting on those dance shoes (at least those of the balerina sort, as in this picture) involves the tying of a ribbon.

And with that, I choose to believe in ribbons and bows. I choose, again, to believe there’s more to life.