He came home unhappy a week ago, preoccupied with the many things that had gone wrong with the evening. And so he never saw it, sitting there waiting, right at his place.
While he was out, I’d suddenly remembered the “gold-foil”-covered chocolate coins I’d bought to put in the little antique bean pot on Saint Patrick’s Day. It was meant to follow that day’s meal of corned beef, colcannon, and homemade (and slightly underdone) soda bread I’d rushed to fling on the table, last minute, having lost track of time. (Can I blame that DST clock change?) In the flurry I’d forgotten the chocolates.
Now, days later, recalling the pleasure I’d enjoyed from recent surprises and thinking I could bless others with little surprises, too, I remembered this one, still hidden away in an upstairs closet.
“Better late than never,” I figured, and cleaned up the mini-beanpot, poured in the coins, finding they fit just right, and placed this “pot of gold” on the kitchen table, right there on his place mat.
But now he wasn’t even seeing it! His miseries of the evening had stolen his attention–and potential joy.
This grumpy bout was quite unusual. He almost always comes home from his ministry exuberant. I wondered whether he would have noticed in his usual, better mood. Or would his focus been so captivated with the happy events he’d enjoyed that even they would have distracted him just as much?
But what this really made me wonder was if I do the same thing, if I might even have done so the same day, and missed (maybe a lot of) surprises the greatest Lover of my soul had set out ahead of time for me.
It’s easy to get preoccupied. It takes a bit more intentionality to keep alert for the surprises. May this week be one of vibrant awareness—of all the usual blessings and all the special little surprises as well.