Synchronicity At Its Finest

         Today as I left for my early morning walk, my husband was awake. As he is a night owl, this was quite unusual, so I asked if everything was okay. It wasn’t. He didn’t feel well.  I left anyway for my walk, and was listening to a meditation on my iTunes about being love and living as love.  Near the end of my walk, about two blocks from home, my meditation was interrupted by his ringtone. He had gotten sick.  Jon is blind and he also has a bad hip, so it is hard for him to get down to floor level. He was calling to let me know he had made a bit of a mess.  Trying to remember all that I had just heard on my meditation mp3, I took a few deep breaths, but I wasn’t really prepared for the actual “bit of a mess.”  One entire hour later after much labor-intensive vomit chunk removal, I was amazed at the different thoughts that flew through my head.  What I wanted to do was cry, but there wasn’t anyone else that could do this nasty job. I was thinking that they say “for better or worse” but did they really mean this? Then it dawned on me. It is easy to talk about love. It is easy to throw the word around in some gushy, touchy-feely, good vibe kind of way, but real love?  Real, honest-to-goodness love is cleaning up a grown man’s puke all over the walls and sides of the toilet. Real love means down on your knees pulling up air vents to spray the disinfectant into every nook and cranny. Real love means getting the big chunks off of his clothes before doing the load of rugs and other assorted items that got in the way.

            Now that he is resting with his glass of 7-up beside him and bucket nearby, I am musing at the irony of my iTunes shuffle to choose the very items on my playlist that I needed to hear today more than any other day. I’m guessing it wasn’t a coincidence, but rather an episode of synchronicity that only God can so impeccably orchestrate.