Five Minute Friday. The word is “comfort.”
Today my brother graduates from college. We went to a reception with his department — Aerospace Engineering, if you want to know — and stood around balancing traditional reception plates full of traditional reception foods, and chit-chatted with other graduates and their families. Four years ago, I was the graduate, but the reception was for my whole university — admittedly much smaller than the brothers’ — and I was, as it turns out, much less comfortable.
I don’t know why. Why the peers and professors with whom I had spent four years of my life frightened me that graduation day, why I didn’t know what to do with my hands and feet and words. But that’s how it was.
Today, with four years’ more experience balancing reception plates and plastic punch glasses, I was, yes, much more comfortable.
James Herriot, in one of his books, remarks that “Cats are connoisseurs of comfort.” Sometimes I think am, too. Give me my comfortable space, my comfortably defined roll. Tell me who I am and how I am to behave. That, for me, is comfort.
I suppose these four years have helped me with that. Helped me to know who I am, how that who behaves. Mostly, they’ve been years to teach me what I knew four years ago, but didn’t know how to apply. The answer to the who — and it sounds cliche probably — but the answer is, I’m Christ’s. Recipient of His love. Beneficiary of His grace.
So that I walk beloved wherever I walk. I walk beautiful, because He beautifies. In that is great comfort.