I may have jinxed my luck.

Only a few hours ago, I was craving to dramatically break out of my seemingly stenciled life and throw myself in the arms of adventure…

…until a police officer pulled me out of choir rehearsal and into the deserted street to tell me that my car had been broken into. The sense of security that nearly suffocated me yesterday morning feels a bit more fragile now, possibly illusory. Time to cool it a bit.

Control is quite the odd construct in my life: I can’t get away from it fast enough, but I can’t seem to have enough of it either. Why is that? Why is a healthy balance of doing my best and letting the rest be up to God just so hard for me to achieve and maintain and sustain?

And, most importantly, what did the biker think when he noticed the thief smashing my passenger window with a massive cobblestone, yelled at and ran after him, caught him, and handed him over to the police? Maybe I didn’t jinx my luck after all, maybe I was just given the opportunity to gain a more nuanced understanding of gratitude.

To me, the biker’s act is a courageous one. Tonight, I am one grateful fellow human. And so I fall asleep with a prayer for more courage on my lips. Because being Good takes courage, loads of it, all the time, until it becomes character, even fate, and that of other people, too…