We lost a chicken this afternoon. I found it lifeless right there in the corner of our little make-shift coup, being pecked to further death by it's little companions. :(
The Charmer put a bar of soap and a golf ball in the toilet, I guess we're lagging on putting the lid down around here.
The truck is still broken and sitting at the shop in town.
And the Dancing girl cried through her (ENTIRE) reading lesson today, she said there were to many sounds to put together on that one page.
It sounds like good-old LIFE, to me.
But why is it that my circumstances so often determine the state of my heart?
Rightfully so, the Cowboy was not happy coming home to ANOTHER clogged toilet,
But I HATE that tension between us. I hate that feeling of inadequacy in my own heart, that feeling of "if only"... if only I had been able to keep a better eye on that little Charmer, then the Cowboy and I could have kissed each other in the dark instead of sitting in different rooms all grouchy at one another.
I know he wasn't mad at me. It's simply frustrating to come home to an hour long, unexpected hunt for the missing bar of soap lodged in the brand new toilet.
These ups and downs, they will always be here.
Why do I choose to be beaten down by the waves when I know that with a simple word HE can calm any storm?
We read it this morning., you know that story about HIM and HIS disciples in the boat? Their fear blinding them from witnessing first-hand HIS glory. He was napping and all they had to do was wake HIM up and listen to HIM whisper that one word, "Peace"...
HIM whispering one word, and the wind and the waves obeyed HIM... immediately.
There's always gonna be stuff. Trucks break, chickens die, and that little Charmer looks up at you with that unbelievable smile and reminds you that life without clogged toilets is boring.
Maybe life would be easier and I would have so much more control over my days if we had less kids and less animals and a smaller house and this or that? Maybe we wouldn't have to think twice about money if I sent the kids to school and worked full time?
Oh but the joy of here!
Even on the rough days.
I'm discovering that no matter where you are or what your circumstance, there will always be opportunity to choose misery or choose joy. It-is-always-a-choice. Always.
That Charmer, he flooded the kitchen while playing joyfully in the water-cooler. He threw golf-balls in with the chickens and laughed and laughed. You'd think I'd know by now that when I hear that deep belly laughter it's a sign of Charmer-trouble. But instead I listened to that little boy's joy for fifteen minutes before I thought to see what he was actually laughing about.
Life will always be happening here. It won't always be pretty. But I can still choose joy if I want to.
I was bundled up under the covers, watching the thunderstorm roll in outside my window when the Cowboy came in and tangled his fingers up in mine. The release of pride from both of our hearts. Walls fall down, the tension breaks open and a flood of HIS joy comes in and restores what was lost on one Wednesday afternoon in April.
