it’s all good {CELEBRATE This Week: 174}

I’m glad you are here to celebrate! 

Share a link to your blog post below and/or use #celebratelu to share celebrations on Twitter. Check out the details hereCelebrate This Week goes live on Friday night around 10(ish). Consider it as a weekend celebration. Whenever it fits in your life, add your link. 

Please leave a little comment love for the person who links before you.

***

I like it when things settle back to ordinary. The Christmas decorations are put away, the fridge holds more fruits and vegetables than it does cookies and candies, and the shopping is primarily at the grocery store.

I’ve spent a lifetime learning to love ordinary. There is holiness in routine. There is power in the familiar. The secret is to continue to see these things as sacred.

2016 was a year of friction. The Christmas season of 2016 was no different.  This was true for me and for those who are closest to me. The glow of Christmas lived side-by-side with heartache.

Learning to tailor a life well lived is about remaining steadfast through the trials. It’s about loving when it’s hard. It’s about believing in a greater good.

My friend Kim always said, “It’s all good.” She would share a trial or a tiff or a situation that didn’t quite go how she would have liked. She would tell me how she was mad and cried and said exactly what was on her mind. Kim had passion. And then she’d say, “But it’s all good.” The stories always ended with her smoothing things over with the other person. She didn’t do it in a condescending way and she didn’t sacrifice her core beliefs. She simply allowed her love for people to trump all disagreements. Everyone knew Kim loved them.

It’s all good.

This phrase is all around my school communities. It’s on business windows and school message boards. It’s on restaurant signs and Facebook feeds.

It’s all good.

Kim and her oldest son passed away in a car accident on Christmas evening. It is a devastating situation. At the Celebration of Life, I sat in a packed high school gymnasium. One of the speakers asked for audience participation. Four times during his speech he shared a common Kim scenario, and then  asked us to say the words that were commonplace when talking with Kim:

It’s all good, rumbled throughout the gym.

I sat in the dark church sanctuary for the small funeral service. The pastor unpacked the reasons why Kim was able to say, with authority, “It’s all good.” Kim knew there was a good God at work. Kim knew things on this earth are temporary. Kim knew people mattered more than anything else. She assured everyone she met, “It’s all good.

What an incredible legacy Kim has left on earth.

As things around me return to ordinary, I am not. The gnarled living of 2016 changed me. I have a new perspective, whether I like it or not.

My ordinary is evolving.

I celebrate that through the hard, we can find good on the other end. I celebrate, like Kim, that

It’s all good.

Share your celebrations…

document.write(”);

Let's Be Email Pals!

Teaching writers doesn't have to drown us.

Enter your information to receive my free eBook, plus weekly tips and encouragement for teaching writers.

Don't worry, I won't send you spam, and you can unsubscribe any time. (I'd hate to see you go, though.) Powered by Seva

16 Comments »

  1. My condolences on the lost of your dear friend, Kim. It sounds like she knew how to find the good, even when it was difficult. We could all use a little more of that.

  2. Ruth, I am so sorry about your loss! Heartbreaking. What a brave soul to live a life that can be remembered with such powerful words, “It's all good.” I have to say I feel like I, too, have been changed this year. These words spoke clearly to me, “The gnarled living of 2016 changed me.” I have been living out of fear because of that. I've been writing a lot about it too. Thank you for naming it here and for giving me new words to live by, “It's all good.” Praying for you and for Kim's family.

  3. I stopped when I read about Kim and her son. I turned to prayers. My heart aches for her family and for you. I always seem to lift lines from your Celebrations, “Learning to tailor a life well lived is about remaining steadfast through the trials. It's about loving when it's hard. It's about believing in a greater good.”

  4. Oh Ruth, I am sorry for this terrible loss of your friend Kim and her son. It is a blessing that she brought joy to all of you in her approach to living. “It's all good” brings an attitude we all can learn to adopt.

  5. Where would we be if we didn't surround ourselves with those “good” people? And maybe even more important, how can we be one of the good ones? It sounds like your community lost a special one. I hold you tight in my thoughts, prayers and heart and pray that 2017 brings you much goodness.

  6. When I read your words, “I like it when things settle back to ordinary.” I wanted to cry out, “I don't.” I am never happy to put away the Christmas decorations and bring ordinary back into my life. There's something so embraceable about the magic of December. However, it's become a little easier as I grow older because the years just fly by ever more quickly and I remind myself that I will just turn around and it will be December again.
    Ruth, I am so sorry for the loss of this dear friend and her son. What a legacy she left: “Kim knew there was a good God at work. Kim knew things on this earth are temporary. Kim knew people mattered more than anything else.” I pray for you and Kim's family to receive comfort during this difficult time.

  7. Ruth,
    It takes a lot of heart to mean “it's all good” in very difficult times. Kim sounds like she mentored that kind of heart. I'm grateful you shared Kim with us so her story lives outside your community. Wishing you love and peace in the new ordinary times of 2017.

  8. May all you shared in friendship with Kim comfort in the deep loss you are now experiencing. The story is one to remember. I will think of those words, “It's all good,” and think if the rest of the story, too. With God, with faith, the words are true.

  9. As is so often the case, your post is just what I ned to read. Kim's words, and the way you wrote about her, was deeply moving. How blessed to have known Kim, Ruth…and how blessed I feel today knowing of her.

  10. I am so sorry for your loss. Your words, the way you share this story, your message – all together powerfully touch my heart. I so hope that this year will bring you more light and laughter than you can ever expect.

  11. How quickly we forget that life is fragile, and a tragedy brings that fragility back to our consciousness. I am so sorry for the loss of this friend and her son. My heart breaks for their family and you. “It's all good” will forever have a new meaning for me.

  12. Your post resonated with me because I have a friend who has lost almost everyone who was ever close to her, her husband, her son, her father, and she always says, “It's all good!”
    I am so sorry for your loss and the world's loss of Kim and her son. How incredibly devastating! I am sending a heartfelt hug your way.

  13. Ruth, Life is fragile and uncertain as evidenced by your friend's passing so unexpectedly. Life turns on a dime and we cannot predict when. I find that relying on faith is my cushion. Your words are filled with inspiration and a core belief in the “good”. Thank you for sharing your deep, personal loss and making us aware that strength comes from our beliefs.

  14. It really is “all good.” I think that is why I chose “rejoice” for my OLW17. I pray you and those who loved Kim and her son are comforted; I ached for your loss when I read your words. What a legacy she has given even us through you.

  15. Your words spoke to me tonight after I finally enjoyed a day at home with my son because it snowed. This year has been one of longing for more. I can relate to your comment, “I've spent a lifetime learning to love the ordinary. There is holiness in routine. There is power in the familiar.” It is all good! I am so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing yourself with strangers. You made an impact.

  16. Oh, Ruth, I'm so sorry to hear you lost your friend and her son. Your story is powerful…her story is powerful. It's neat that she so often said those words and that people knew her for those words. Earlier in the school year, I was home with my littlest dude and he tweeted his class to say that he was home sick but, “It is what it is.” I laughed at his words, thinking how profound they sounded for a six-year-old until I heard myself saying them to a friend. They are my words. And I like them. I love them. I've worked on mindfulness the last couple of years and being able to say, “It is what it is” and move on is one of the biggest lessons I've learned. To see him using those words because I do was mind blowing. It sounds like Kim's words will live on, her story will live on. Thank you for sharing and inviting us to celebrate. xo