To find the beauty in the simple — the prize of every heart.
To learn to view the plain, not as lacking, but as full of truth: raw, real, not hidden by or covered in the festivities of red letter days. The common. The simple. The beautiful. We live in the common, we live in the real, and like snow that covers brown, we desire something more exciting, more beautiful, to cloak our bland.
But what if all that was extra ordinary in our life, became the ordinary — would extra seem so desirable? Or would we then yearn for ordinary? It’s the ordinary that holds beauty, because the strength of the ordinary is the base for anything extra. Extra, rising and falling on the strength of the ordinary.
I see the beauty of the ordinary in her ability to laugh as heartily as she did when spun on the merry-go-round twelve kids ago; In how his older siblings gathered around him to comfort when he twisted his ankle and sat down in tears; In the sound of the grill sizzling BBQ-brushed burgers over hot charcoal, son taking his turn to grill for dad, after twenty-plus years of living in his father’s home, now inviting him to his own.
It’s all around us. Beauty. Simplicity. Ordinary. Moments that will feel like the snow on brown when we are years past them, straining to remember every waft of flavor as we waited for lunch, each child’s laugh, each cry for compassion, every embrace from ones we loved when living with them was ordinary.