44. Finding joy in letting go of the mess. Whether that mess is the never ending pile of laundry to be folded, the Cheerios hiding in the corners of the floor, the diaper pail ready to be taken out, or something less obvious like trying to figure out why your child has suddenly decided to get up at five in the morning after all these months, letting go is a crucial but difficult task. I just cannot control everything, and--let's face it--I don't think that anyone wants me to. When I stop obsessing over having things my way, I can stop and enjoy the everyday curve balls that life throws my way.
Ann says it a little more eloquently than I:
Joy is a flame that glimmers only in the palm of the open and humble hand. In an open and humble palm, released and surrendered to receive, light dances, flickers happy. The moment the hand is clenched tight, fingers all pointing toward self and rights and demands, joy is snuffed out. Anger is the lid that suffocates joy until she lies limp and lifeless. ...The demanding of my own will is the singular force that smothers out my joy--nothing else.
Pride, mine--that beast that pulls on the mask of anger--this is what snaps this hand shut, crushes joy. ...'Pride slays thanksgiving. ...A proud man is seldom a grateful man, for he never thinks he gets as much as he deserves.' Dare I ask what I think I deserve? A life of material comfort? A life free of all trials, all hardship, all suffering? A life with no discomfort, no inconveniences? Are there times that a sense of entitlement--expectations--is what inflates self, detonates anger, offends God, extinguishes joy?
And what do I really deserve? Thankfully, God never gives what is deserved, but instead, God graciously, passionately offers gifts, our bodies, our time, our very lives. God does not give rights but imparts responsibilities--response-abilities--inviting us to respond to His love-gifts.
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