Ok, so I am having fun with this photo booth thing and I am having a better day. I was cracking myself up doing it. I have just finished the batch of Cappuccino Soap, so I can't wait to slice it up once it cools. School was relatively simple and straight forward, and tonight I am to go to a homeschool mom meeting. I have no idea what I am getting into, so I hope I am not scared off. Homeschooling mothers continue to intimidate me (even though I am one of them).
So, since I am feeling about a fourth of the way chipper, I will write something sort of chipper. I will not, however, write a cheer:
I am happy when I find stuff like allergy pills.
I am happy when I eat chocolate.
I am happy when I work really hard and then get to relax.
I am happy when Dear Sir asks me to make him popcorn. (Don't tell him I said that!)
Ok, I have to quit this. It is making me a little queasy.
The fact is, no one is happy or content unless things are going their way. At least if I am honest with myself that is what the deal is. No, Eraser Eater, you may not have a melt-down, it will ruin MY day. You get what I mean. I am trying to digest the fact that the only way I will please God is if I live my life like I want to please Him and not myself. It is such a contrary idea or condition from what I am prone to do. Have you ever tried to walk in the opposite direction of oncoming strong wind? That is what it feels like every day. It is a striving that takes strength. I am talking about myself, yes, but I am also talking about every person who is a Christian. It's like I try to tell my Oldest almost every single school day before we start (and believe me, it gets old): You can't get out of it, this is the way it is, so get used to it and enjoy it while you are at it. It is hard to think about enjoying "striving". Or rather, "enduring". Life should not necessarily be difficult from the outside, but it is more of a war inside that makes it the hardest. At least that is what I think. A fight against self.
This reminds me somehow (don't ask me to explain this) of a story C.S. Lewis told about when he was in the war. He and his comrade were down and talking bad about it in the trenches and another soldier was so "in the clouds" about the state of the war and he was exceedingly optimistic to a fault. Lewis could not believe that people could actually be so silly until the very bitter end as death faces them. Lewis was saying that there is a line drawn between pessimism and realism. I think this is true. Why must we lie to ourselves so we feel better when reality is staring us in the face? More optimistic people would say a realistic person is pessimistic.
So---realistically, I am only happy when I get my way.
And---I am not getting my way today but I will be happy anyway. So there. True happiness is finding that I am not in control. I would really mess things up if I were. Thank goodness for that.