On a beautiful winter (yes, I said it) day, I went to the zoo to wander; it's my favorite deep breathing and head clearing space away from my mat. I can always count on my furry friends to encourage a smile to break through my furrowed brow. Babies Bulgan (camel) and Sherman (red panda) are really growing and the mama giraffe loved on her baby over the partition which separated them yesterday. The sun was shining through the (world-class .. no big deal) Arctic Ring of Life as I observed with glee the polar bear frolicking in the water with his ball. Have I painted a tranquil enough scene for you? When I put my phone back in my pocket, I realized with a sinking heart that my license wasn't there. The zoo insists on an ID; I find this annoying but apparently necessary so I carry it. Except yesterday it must've fallen out. Somewhere. An image of my lonesome self flashed before my eyes, as I sat at the DMV on the day before Christmas. With determination, I retraced my steps back through the entire zoo keeping my eyes peeled for that tiny white card. The whole time I walked, here were my thoughts:
"I need to renew it by March 1 anyway .. maybe I can just do it early?"
"WHY do they need me to prove I am who I am so I can just look at some animals?"
"It's winter. Who comes to the zoo in the winter? You, Sarah, you do. Stupid Michigan."
I'm pretty sure the sun went in and the second half of my trip wasn't the deep breathing, thought clearing walk I'd anticipated. I caught some chimp fun on my way to the Lost & Found but the whole trip was a little soured by my lost license, I'm sorry to say. As I walked to my car after filling out contact information in case it was found, I found myself thinking over the last few weeks. Despite the fact that I really am a fully-functioning, responsible and mostly sane member of society, there have been a lot of small annoyances which seem to prove otherwise. Closed credit card due to fraudulent activity? Check. Twelve hours of a cold house because "the mother board on my BRAND.NEW.FURNACE. got confused"? Check. Middle section of the Christmas tree's lights out? Check. And that's only in the last few weeks. These are the times we have two choices: we cry or we laugh. Yesterday, after retracing and mumbling to myself about the absurdity of the whole thing, all I really could do was laugh. Thank goodness I have a mom who reminds me to laugh at myself on a regular basis and a God who must have a plan for me.
I got into the car and as I drove away, the radio sang out, "And He will bring us goodness and light!" I try to avoid Christmas radio at all costs. I hate Wham! or "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" or "Jingle Bell Rock" but love the holy songs with a message that has nothing to do with last Christmas or really any kind of jingling bells; this one wasn't the holiest version I've heard but it got me thinking about the goodness and light in my life. Sometimes it's easier to live in the bad and the darkness -- or at least I think it is. Fortunately I have people in my life who are determined to make it about the goodness and the light (even the DJ on whatever station who knew I needed a holy song). When it might be easier to think about the minor annoyances, there is cupcakes, campagne and the revelation of Gossip Girl on a Monday, a fabulous Essie shade from my secret santa at work, an already overcapacity CHWC Detroit for 2013, a little cousin who called my gift "the best present ever" (it was a $1 wild animal calendar from Target - simple joys, people!) family and friends with whom to celebrate the most minor absurdities, and always, always yoga. In my small existence in this big crazy world, these are the moments of light in the darkness. That's the message of the holy songs: Jesus comes when we need Him the most and my faith tells me He comes in the form of thoughtfulness, kind words, laughter and deep breathing. Amen.
Lo and behold, I got a call shortly thereafter from a very jovial zoo employee just thrilled to tell me my license had been found.
Some people have babies this time of year (yay, Baby Porterfield!) and others get married (yay, Mandy & Rich!). Me? I'll take the tiny Christmas miracle in the form of a found driver's license at the lion exhibit by the nice security guard on his bike. He (the big He, not necessarily the security guard) WILL bring us of goodness and light; sometimes we just have to look a little harder for it. Merry Christmas!
