Beauty Hunting

This summer started out differently than expected. A rejection from a job I was hoping to land left me feeling disappointed and unsettled. It seems this is a season of searching, waiting, receiving disappointing news, and still trying again. It's not my favorite.

Along the way, I've allowed myself to grieve - and oh I've cried so many tears, but I've also been teaching myself to search out beauty. As I write this, my first loaves of sour dough are baking in the oven, the house plants are blooming, my pup is asleep at my feet, and the sun has managed to break through the clouds gleaming off the beads of raindrops in the trees.

This act of "beauty hunting" (term originally coined by Jen Pastiloff) encourages me to recognize the gifts of God all around me - right here, in the present. As Pastiloff describes it - "It's about finding enchantment in imperfectness... when we give our attention to actively searching for beauty, we come closer to the age-old provocation: How do I be here? Now?"

This past week, my husband I spent some time with family at his parent's lakehouse. As I floated in the water and looked up at the trees the Lord whispered to me an old favorite from Psalm 23,

"He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside the still waters, He restores me soul... Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

Goodness and mercy.

They will follow me all of the day of my life.

Not some days, not just when I'm doing my best, or when all of my life feels like its in alignment, or when I'm commended by a coworker, or when I get the job... no - all the days of my life.

On days like today, when I've received yet another rejection for a job I've applied for - Goodness and mercy follow me. I can hold and recognize the disappointments that have hit me in this season, but at the same time, I can say that there is still beauty to be found here.

A story to finish with.

As we were traveling home yesterday from the lake house, I was looking through routes to take on the way home. One seemed like an easy choice, fastest (by 17 minutes), most direct, less curvy, but there was another option. It took a bit more time, but was more scenic and would lead us through a quaint little town right around lunch time. Using my "beauty-hunting" goggles, I decided to take this route instead.

For the first few hours, it rained. I had to navigate unknown winding and slippery roads, with cars huddled up near my bumper because I didn't want to drive above the speed limit in the watery mess. I began to wonder if I'd made the right choice. But eventually the rain clouds cleared, and we arrived in our little scenic town right at lunch time.

My husband picked out a poke bowl spot and I ran in to order lunch as he waited at the car with our dog. After ordering, the cashier encouraged me to step across the street and check out their general store while our meals were being made. Eager to see what next adventure might await me, I walked quickly across the road to "Jerry's General Store." I purused the locally sourced flours and jams and then eventually picked out a canned boba tea (Collin's favorite). I walked to the counter to check-out. The lady ringing me up was a bit older and I couldn't help but ask - "Are you Jerry?"

"No," she replied, "I'm her younger sister. It was always Jerry's dream to open up a poke bowl restaurant and general store, and when she passed away earlier this year from Covid, I (her younger sister) stepped in to help and carry her dream forward." I gave her my condolences, but also smiled and shared, "I'm sure Jerry would be proud to see her dream carried forward like this."

It was beautiful to witness the strength of family and the desire to stay connected to passed loved ones through their past dreams. It felt so human to witness the grief, but also the beauty sprinkled here. As I walked back to pick up our poke bowls, my husband met me at the door with our dog. We sat in the sun outside eating with Woody snuggled beneath our table on the wet pavement.

Sometimes a detour or an unknown place, can hold such a capacity for beauty and wonder. Appreciating and finding ourselves enchanted with the "everyday" is a small way to keep ourselves grounded in the present.

"We must leave room for not knowing. For the unexpected. For delight. For surprise. For all of it. For being human." {Jen Pastiloff}