This Moment: Thankful for the Ordinaries

Right now I'm squished into a comfy, olive green arm chair, just far enough into the right side so that my elbow is complaining of the constriction. The students on the couches are fairly decent at staying focused on their homework and the dorm is quiet, which is nice. Sweeping my eyes through the lobby, I can see the decorative journey my friends and I are on to make our dorm look homey for the holidays. The carpet around the coffee table is peppered with tiny white paper bits, evidence of our snowflake creations that are taped to the windows and hung along the upstairs balcony. Our Christmas tree, which is festooned with glowing lights, crimson berries, and frustratingly brittle pieces of popped corn, is growing a chunky moat of colored packages around the bucket it stands in. And of course, I couldn't forget, the colossal cardboard gingerbread house that takes up a bit too much space in the lobby. It's been a pretty ordinary Sunday in December. Typical. Same. Standard. And this is a pretty ordinary moment during study hall. But I guess in a world where life is typically chaotic, tumultuous, and uncontrolled ordinary is something to be thankful for.