So it wasn’t the best of afternoons. The youngest boy is potty training. And by potty training I mean, “Training me to clean up his potty.” Yesterday he set a new personal record for square feet of carpet coverage during his ‘nap time.’ (By ‘nap time’ I mean, “Time not napping. See definition for potty training.”) A roll of paper towels later, I went back to wrestling with the printer. You see, my printer broke a couple weeks ago so I had to spend money buying a new printer Saturday. If you know me, you know that spending money does not make me happy. Even worse, this printer would not communicate with my PC. Their lack of speaking meant that I was forced to uninstall, reinstall, configure and reconfigure…all without success. As it turns out, the this clean-up and technology 1-2 punch was all it took to leave me in a foul mood.
It reminded me of how fragile we can be at times.
Of the 1,000 good things going on in my life, why did I let these 2 relatively minor ones get under my skin? I mean, I understand the basics:
- I hate asking for help.
- I hate not being able to fix something quickly and efficiently. Ideally it won’t break in the first place, but if it does break it should have the common courtesy to be easily fixed.
- I hate cleaning up urine.
So, it’s not a huge mystery I suppose. But still, I was struck at how my whole mindset got hijacked by two minor events.
Finally I broke down and went to the Contact Us page of the printer company, and I was promptly assisted by someone with a real name I probably couldn’t pronounce who was instant messaging under the pen name “Stella.” Stella spent 5 minutes checking the obvious stuff that I had already checked 4 times, and then swiftly updated the driver. Done. Printer-PC communication! Suddenly the sun came out, the birds began to sing, and life was good again. All because of Stella.
So today I am recommitting to a more resilient life. A life that is anchored deeper and unmoved by the daily waves of printers and potty. There is no reason for such little things to bump me off course. I have joy – true joy – that anchors me.
Today I am committed to remembering that “the joy of the Lord is my strength.” Simple, but true.