The dryer is broken. The air conditioner in the white car only blows through half the vents. The sinks in both bathrooms are clogged, one by toothbrushes dropped down the drain. The upstairs cast iron tub won’t drain at all anymore. The dishwasher only cleans the bottom rack.

Three weeks ago Bob and I went to an art show by my friend and co-worker, and we bought the biggest, most beautiful painting in the gallery. We whipped out our credit card quickly and decisively, like a couple of art patrons who do this all the time.

Bob brought the painting home and hung it yesterday. When Girl saw it, she fell backward and screamed “I LOVE IT!” It’s in the dining room, the heart of our house. Bob and I stop and stare at it at different hours of the day and night, noticing how the light and shadows bring new meaning and context to the work.

Maybe it’s completely impractical to buy art when so many things need to be fixed. But I’m so tired of my money going to things I care so little about. Sometimes my days feel like one long, boring maintenance manual.

The beautiful piece in my dining room is called Heaven’s Gate, and I think it’s no accident it came to me the day after my dear aunt’s funeral.

It can be my reminder of the Divine in everyday life.