Before I talk about photo bombing, let’s notice how I look like a 102 year old Eastern European lady in this photo!
My granddaughter introduced me to the term “photo bombing,” when you jump into someone else’s photo, uninvited. Here my dog Cinder seems to be trying to claim the foreground of the photo. At least her rear end is trying to nudge me out.
I think the President-elect is doing the equivalent of photo bombing my tranquility and self-regulation. I will be calm, grounded and optimistic, secure in my faith and surrounded by those who love me and then BAM–I walk by an insane headline such as “Trump says no one is sure about climate change.” Disregulation, internal argument about the truth, frustration, despair creep in. This happens when I least expect it, such as waiting in line at the drug store.
So I am trying to let God photo bomb me instead. I am mindful of the hawk that sits up on the power pole, pulling me out of my funk, restoring my calm. I watch the long line going to Communion and my faith is buoyed. I see my husband standing on the ground cleaning the gutters with a hand made vaccum device worthy of Rube Goldberg, and I remember that he promised me he will stay off ladders because he loves me.
I welcome such interruptions of joy, light, peace, and love. Keep them coming God.