This morning, I am sitting at UVa Hospital. My mom is trying to rest in her hospital bed. My dad has a booklight clipped to his lapel. The women sharing the room with Mom are discussing sewing projects. I looked out the window to the hills of the Blue Ridge and the buildings of the University. This does not seem to be a place where peace should descend, yet here it is.
So much could seem wrong today, and so much is wrong. My mother is very sick with metastatic melanoma. My dad is exhausted. Yet, here, in a sterile room, God has descended.
Not sure why peace has come so strongly here. Maybe it’s that I read my friend Cate’s post about her attempts to feed her family of four on less than $100 a year. Maybe there I found the normalcy that seems to be fleeting in my days during this time.
Maybe it’s that the sky is bright and clear and reminds me that life continues with great joy and beauty in the lives of so many people below it.
Maybe it’s that here, in this moment, God knows I need this peace.
Whatever it is, here in this least likely place God has come. Isn’t that just always God’s way? A manger, a crude cross, a hug, a blog, a room in a hospital. God is here.