The joy that found me that day

On Wednesday morning, I woke up stressed out and grumpy.

I was feeling guilty that I had missed a meeting the night before-- it had been sleeting and cold at the time I was supposed to leave for the meeting and so I decided to play it safe and not go, but the weather event turned into nothing and I totally could have driven to this meeting and been perfectly safe on the roads.  I always feel rotten when I back out of something that I've committed to, especially at the last minute like that.  I hate disappointing people and so my mind just fixed itself on the guilt and the feeling bad and I couldn't shake it.  Do you ever do that or am I the only one?

I was in the midst of a busy week and trying to squeeze even more drops of time out of already hectic days, just so that everything could get done and all three girls could get to all places that they needed to be with all supplies they needed to have, and Mommy and Daddy could attend rehearsals and meetings and get work done.

I was annoyed with my husband about a few things... small things... misunderstandings.  You know.

And somehow, that day turned into a day in which I experienced some of the most profound joy I have felt in a long while.

I wanted to get the kids outside, and I knew that I needed the fresh air myself.  We took a walk in the woods at a nearby park.

The quiet of the woods, the sound of the rushing water under the bridge as the snow melted, watching my girls' excitement as they played Pooh Sticks, and breathing the clean, cold air.  Not being at home and focusing on a to-do list.  Just right.

Texting with my husband, asking him to take a couple of errands off my plate (the bank... the grocery store for blueberry muffin mix so that L could make her birthday treat to take to preschool tomorrow...), and him gladly accepting as he always does.  Loving him.  It's amazing the amount of relief that two less errands can bring.

Realizing that the girls were hungry after a walk in the cold and I didn't bring a snack.  We didn't have time to go home before L's appointment at the bone doctor.  Starting to beat myself up for not planning ahead and packing a snack... and then stopping.  Needing not to choose guilt in that moment.  Spending $10 at Walgreens on Goldfish and apple juice.

Sitting in the Walgreens parking lot with the heat blasting and the girls holding their bare feet up to the heating vents, warming their cold toes and singing the Pirates of Penzance along with the radio at the top of their lungs through mouthfuls of Goldfish.

Heartily enjoying them, in that moment.  Sitting back and listening to their beautiful voices singing.

Waiting for nearly two hours at the bone doctor.  Being amazed at the patience of my girls, who didn't even ask "why is this taking so long?" until we had already been waiting 90 minutes.

(pictures L took on my phone while waiting)

Witnessing the look of joy on L's face when she came out of the x-ray room, having successfully completed her last set of x-rays, when all morning the mere mention of the word "x-ray" had caused her eyes to fill with tears and her little chin to tremble with fear.  (Remember her first set of x-rays in the middle of the night that were so painful?  A child does not easily forget.)

Choosing not to feel guilt again as we pull into McDonalds way past lunch time with starving girls after our long wait at the bone doctor.  Hearing the cheerful voice at the drive-through window, the voice that has been there every time I have visited this McDonalds.  It's always so busy and she handles two drive-through lanes and I'm noticing today that she uses a magnifying glass to peer at the screen to give me my total for the order as I pull up to the first window.  Many people might think she has the worst job in the world, and she's obviously got some circumstances (maybe a disability?) that could make it even more difficult and less enjoyable.

And yet.

She is without a doubt the most cheerful person I've seen in a week.

She hands me my receipt with a huge smile, and at that moment I realize that joy has found me.

I made little choices throughout the day, almost unbidden, not of my own power, to let go of fear and guilt and stress and worry about the next thing.

And as I let go of those things... as I stopped focusing on myself... I became free to notice that someone else was choosing joy.

I became free to notice that my girls choose joy all the time.  I felt like time slowed down that day-- and I saw my children.  I had seen their wonderfulness before, a thousand times, but there was something different about that day.

And seeing the joy of that McDonald's cashier was the most humbling moment.  There she was, with a hundred reasons for despair.  But she chose joy instead.

Thank you, joy, for finding me that day.