Lady Wray is today’s soundtrack, providing the backdrop for a mellow Monday.

The weather was perfect today and wind came in through open windows in rolls on my way home, strands of my hair whipping around like dancing flags.

I came home and turned on The Office, hoping to let the familiar humor play in the background as I cleaned. Just a few minutes in, though, and I was glued and laughing, telling myself the chores could wait until tomorrow.

But I really did have things I had to get done, so I turned off the TV, grumbling something under my breath about being an adult and how much that sucks sometimes.

While talking to my friend on the phone, I began the tedious task of cleaning my bathroom. Daisy, curious as ever, kept running relay between and around my legs as she sniffed and licked.

Frustrated with constantly being tripped up, I put her out of the bathroom and closed the door. It wasn’t until I started sweeping, friend still on the phone, that I saw her paws tucked up under the door like she just couldn’t resist having at least some part of herself in there with me.

I told my friend and we laughed. I asked her later what I should write about tonight and she said, “Daisy’s paws!”

Since then I’ve been trying to think of something profound to say about it, mind rushing with spiritual gymnastics to try to close the gap between my dog’s paws on a Monday night and our Infinite Creator, trying to find that perfect simile that will make my evening holier.

But Jesus already closed that gap. And because I have him, everything is holy.

So no profound spiritual platitudes tonight, no out-of-context scripture contorted to fit a moment.

Just a mellow Monday, the smell of Sleepy-Time tea meeting me now as I close this, a girl and her dog, antibacterial bathtub cleaner and paws under the door.

Sounds pretty good to me.