ANYWAY. The point of all of that is that Thursdays are officially my "days off." (currently, Tuesdays are as well, but I'll eventually be seeing clients in the first part of the day, so not for much longer). While it wasn't a picture perfect day in Chicago (a typical day? kinda. perfect? depends on your definition of the word), it was still nice enough (for several hours) for me to wander around the lake, somewhat aimlessly.
I just moved and my new apartment is less than half a mile from the lakefront (AMAZING) & one of the several harbors Chicago has. I walked around by the boats and sat and ate my lunch (Brazillian. have i mentioned how much i love this city?) & then walked around some more.
Chicago has amazing lakefront paths...one is set further back, closer to Lake Shore Drive, where the other one is a wide spanse of tiered concrete steps for running, sitting, walking, etc. I found myself wishing I was closer to the lake (when it's windy, Lake Michigan looks so unbelievably cool-seriously impressed I haven't crashed on Lake Shore yet b/c its distracting to watch the waves breaking so fiercely) & I wanted to just enjoy the lakefront. So, I directed myself in the direction of the lake, and sat on some rocks and read "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas" [sidebar: holy. crap. what a book! so so good. so sad. so incredible].
Its been storming on and off all week and it was fighting it this afternoon. When I first got to the rocks and looked toward the south (downtown), it was still fairly sunny. As I continued to sit there, it progressively got darker and darker, then back to sunny by the time I left about an hour and a half or so later. As I sat there, alternating between my book, texting my best friend, and watching the weather change, I was hit with a sense of wonderment and awe of what God is capable of. I know so many friends who are from small farm towns in small towns where skyscrapers and pollution and 4 million people in one city are as foreign to them as no Starbucks or Walmarts for over a mile are to me, who do not truly appreciate the majesty and beauty of my beloved city, but I saw it today.
Watching the weather change in a fairly rapid succession like that was pretty great too. I'd look down for a chapter or so, look back up, and it would either be far darker or lighter than it had been 10 minutes prior. I couldn't help laugh at the symbolism for life was well. Things go from calm to stormy to calm and back again ALL the time (having recently been in one of the storms, I can truly appreciate this) but it's still beautiful. No matter what. No matter how anyone else may perceive it. These storms in life help define us and help us discover who we are and help us realize how strong we truly are. We can start to rebuild ourselves, if the storm tore us down. Or we can shake off the shock and debris if it was a smaller one and begin to move forward down the beautiful path set before us.
It is not always easy to appreciate the beauty through the storm or the "cold and busy" package it may be wrapped up in, but in the end, the result is always beauty. And that is awesome.
