Our property is nine plus acres of almost heaven. (My friend Fran would strongly disagree, but I try not to hold that against her.) There’s beautiful, lush grass that begs me to walk barefoot or even sit for a while. We have gorgeous trees that top 100 feet and are likely 100 years old. My flowers (landscaped and wild) provide a backdrop in every direction. Our barn and pasture are brimming with chickens, pigs, cats, and even an alpaca. The garden is breaking over into the yard. The honeybees from our hives are constantly buzzing. Our two kids, Ruger and Remington, round out the scenery quite nicely. (Yes, they’re dogs. But if you’re a dog parent, I don’t need to explain.) It truly is almost heaven.
Despite all of that beauty surrounding me, I can often find myself focusing on the pasture fence that needs trimmed around, the woodpile that still hasn’t been stacked, the fruit trees that need pruned (again), the siding that hasn’t been replaced on the chicken coop, or the thistle taking over in my wildflower patches. Why in the world would I do that? What could I possibly gain by this shift in my attention?
Life often finds us doing the same thing. Despite all of the blessings that flood our day, we choose to point out the way we’re inconvenienced when the grocery store didn’t have our favorite bread. Forget about the fact that we have more than one vehicle in our garage, because a bird just pooped on the windshield after we pulled out of the carwash.
My friend Christina Custodio wrote about joy the other day. It resonated deep in my heart. We can choose. I don’t always get good news. My hair rarely does what I want. Some days at work are brutal. I wore the sweater with the hole in the elbow (again). Our world appears to spiral more every day. And I still can’t find that loaf of bread. But I get to choose.
It isn’t very often, but I definitely find myself whining or having a pity party for myself. Once I’ve identified my less than desirable disposition, I stop and remind myself of what I know to be true. I serve, love, worship, and follow a great, big God. He’s the Creator of all things. He has a purpose for my life. He has never for one minute abandoned me. He knows the beginning and the end. Over and over in scripture we’re told to rejoice or be joyful. And not one single time does He give us an out. If I burn the brownies…….JOY. If the trash bag busts all over the garage floor……..JOY. When the dogs track in mud the day after the carpets were cleaned……..JOY. And when they say, “You need to see the surgeon”………JOY.
None of this means that we neglect reality. Those things are frustrating and stressful. But I choose to see them through a lens of joy because of my great, big God. Because of Jesus. Not a single thing drops into our lives without first being sifted through God’s hands. Nothing is wasted. Everything is an opportunity to see Him working and molding.
I’ll forget again for a brief moment (probably tonight). I’ll leave my joy sitting on the couch when I go to the kitchen and find dirty dishes in the sink instead of the dishwasher. Hopefully my transformed mind is equipped and ready with scripture to turn me around; to go back and pick up that joy. Life is too short. Look for the joy. Choose the joy. Find the joy. See the joy. Even among the thistles I found it. I’m refusing to live any other way.
Isaiah 55:12 ~ For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace.