In a Good Place

A couple of weeks ago on a 20-mile run, a friend and I chatted about what it meant to be "in a good place."

What does that mean to you?

One definition says: "a state of well-being in which the individual reaches his or her own abilities, can cope with the normal stresses of life, can work productively and fruitfully, and is able to make a contribution to his or her community."

Today, I'm in a good place. I love the subtle changes in seasons--the way the sun shines at a slant now, the breeze and threat of rain, the fresh intermittent quiet pop of leaves here and there. I have some great new music on my Ipod; I have an awesome pair of red heels and some new lip gloss. I'm in a good place.

But to me, being in a good place is not just a matter of new possessions. It's a matter of being comfortable in my skin. It means feeling confident--not necessarily that my situation has changed, but that I feel the ability--the capability--to handle it. And not just to handle it, but to thrive.

Yesterday at church we talked about what it means to blossom in the desert, to build up our waste places. I've been feeling pretty barren lately. My flowers haven't bloomed this summer--but that's probably because I didn't plant as well as I did last year, nor did I water them as carefully. I love what Kate said yesterday--that sometimes we don't immediately see the blossoms of our planting. Sometimes they come years later. But--and here's the important thing--they come. They do.

The other thing about being in a good place is that it sometimes takes a lot of effort. Sometimes it's a fight to be in a good place. Sometimes it means recognizing multiple ways to blossom and bloom. It means finding contentment with an allotted acreage. It means working hard and thinking big and finding a way. And finding some light and color and hope in the process.

And that's why I'm in a good place.