I had a good week.
I don’t remember the last time I said that statement with sincerity. I couldn’t tell you the last time I thought back on my week, and said to myself “Boy, that was nice.”
But this one was. Genuinely good.
This past year has been awful. And I’m not saying that to get pity or sympathy. I’m saying it because that’s an important part of my Story; the past year has been hard and painful and uncomfortable.
But this week was good.
I don’t know why. Maybe I realized that, in the words of my dear friends, The Weepies, “the world spins madly on.” Maybe I realized that, despite what’s happening, time won’t slow down. Life still happens whether we decide to be present for it or not.
But somewhere a long the way I decided to be present and intentional. And there’s something beautiful about that– there’s something beautiful about deciding to actually live your life. There’s something incredible about not just surviving, but living.
This week I lived my life. And it was good.
I had a good week.
