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There is a rhythm in an embossable, polished, predictable world. I wake up, put on, show up, and repeat. We move like numbers in background in scripts written for someone else. But then something happens. shift. spark. An internal voice states: "This isn't everything." **out of ordinary**.
It's not always fireworks or loud applause. Sometimes it's subtle - like when they say "no" when everything is trained to you to say "yes." Or this is the first time I have followed peace instead of logic. The first time I cried and didn't hide it. It was the first time they had stood alone and not felt alone.
*Extraordinary* is often the place where we find our true self. It's a moment that doesn't look perfect on the outside, but you can feel it right from the inside. It is with people who fall in love with unexpected people. To change careers when people say it's too late. I dance in the kitchen in the middle of the night, when no one is watching. Life is not written.
What's rare is the soil where dreams are born. Where art is depicted, where songs are written, prayers are answered in strange and surprising ways. It's laughing when he breaks out in mourning. It is strength that appears in weakness. It's a belief that makes no sense - but it still moves the mountains.
People fear the unknown, but *out of ordinary* is what you can do - it is what you can tilt. That's because wonder is where life lives. It moves God. It breathes purpose.
So, sometimes it gets in the way. It breaks the rhythm. Become a question mark in a world filled with halts. Because it's usually safe......but **out of ordinary** miracles exist.
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