“You say grace before meals. Alright. But I say grace before the play and the opera, and grace before the concert and the pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing; And grace before I dip the pen in the ink.” G. K. Chesterton

Today was uneventful. I slept in. I went running. I had a meaningful conversation with someone on the phone, a couple thousand miles away. Then I went to church.

The campus of the church was really busy…there was a soccer tournament there, so families were all over the place, dads were tailgating with their trucks, kids were playing bunch ball. It was evening when I arrived, and I began to walk on the path that led to the building where we meet.

I looked at the sky.

There above me was splashed the most beautiful desert sunset I’ve seen since moving here. Violet, deep cyan, purple, orange, and wisps of cloud that reflected the vibrant colors were arranged masterfully before me by the hands of an unseen artist. I heard in the distance the cheering of parents from a small chubby kid that had just scored a goal and the laughter of that same kids brothers, playing away from the field waiting for the game to be over. As I continued my stroll, I passed by a 6 year old with his shinguards on and his big soccer bag that was probably bigger than him, and for some reason, I saw myself 16 years ago…so excited, eager to kick a soccer ball. I paused for a moment to take in the gifts that had just been unwrapped before my eyes.

In those moments, I want nothing more than someone to thank for life’s little graces that smuggle in self-avoided happiness, surprising me with a dash of wonder.

I think we ought to say grace a little bit more, eh?

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