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It was mid-October: I was exhausted, worn, weary, weepy. On Friday afternoon I had lamented to a friend ad nauseum about my inability to: keep my home clean, do daily tasks, stay awake, stop crying, make a list for the cleaning gal I was overextended, exhausted, unorganized but also a bit overjoyed-- My friends had gifted me with a ticket to Les Miserables. I was thrilled and encumbered at the same time. I wanted to see the show, but didn't know if I'd have the umph to enjoy it, knowing what a miserable mess my life was. On Sunday I: attended church, stopped home for seven minutes went to lunch with a friend from out-of-state stopped by home for five minutes answered a text from the friend who offered wisdom to my tears: go to the show, don't stay home to sleep or clean ate supper in Des Moines bought chocolate-covered espresso beans to put in my coffee explained the plot to the theater newbies next to me quietly hummed along (yes, it was quietly). I was floating on the way home from Des Moines. It could have been the bottomless cup of coffee resulting in exorbitant amounts of caffeine, but I really think it was the lyrics sung by Jean Valjean: My soul belongs to God, I know, I made that bargain long ago.He gave me hope when hope was gone; He gave me strength to journey on... Over and over this phrase danced through my head. Upon arriving at home, lyrics of hope still swirling, I was greeted by an outdoor fall arrangement rich with the colors of the season. I smiled, knowing the gifter -- the friend I'd lamented to on Friday and who'd texted on Sunday. I opened the door, turned on the light and was so shocked at what I saw I burst into tears: my entire home had been cleaned from top to bottom (I swear I even saw some sparkle bursts) including an intricate fall display on my kitchen table. That random act of cleaning gave me hope when hope was waning; it gave me strength to carry on...into the next week. I drifted off to sleep...smiling...crying...humming.
