My Favorite Things

It was nearly dark, the sun quickly dropping behind the familiar mountainous landscape.  Truly, the result was picturesque, soft orange and pink hues painting the sky behind purple Rocky Mountain peaks.  Though breathtaking, I hardly noticed.  My vision was narrowed to the goal at hand … I just wanted to get home.  After a long, long day of work, errands and running kids to different activities, I was ready to put on my sweats and take a break.  It was not to be, however.  Though bedtime was only a hour or two away, dinner still had to be made, homework done, and endless other tasks that required my immediate attention.  The tension between what I wanted to do and what was yet required of me was draining the last of my positive attitude.  The glorious sunset had been hijacked by the exhaustion that blanketed my body, mind and spirit.  I was a woman on the edge.

Sitting in the backseat of our truck was one of my sons, whom I had just retrieved from soccer practice.  He was chattering on about who-knows-what, all while my irritation was escalating at an alarming pace.  I could not absorb any more information, and I longed for peace and quiet.  Though I knew I “should” listen and appear attentive, a part of me wanted to scream, “I don’t want to do anything for anyone else today!”  I was about to inform him that mommy needed some “quiet time” when he said, “What are your favorite things in life?”  I cringed.  I didn’t feel like answering any questions.  Thankfully, before I could come up with a semi-polite response, he started making a list of his own:

• Petting a happy dog
• Eating marshmallows in hot chocolate
• Soccer practice on at night
• Getting to a new level on XBOX
• Adding a new trophy to my trophy shelf 
• Lazy days
• Prayers before bedtime
• Daydreaming
• An unexpected play date with a friend
• Waiting for my mom to tuck me in at night
• Sleep-overs
• Eating the waffle cone after the ice cream is gone
• Short naps
• Reading in bed before going to sleep
• A brand new box of Legos
• Going to the library
• Taking a day off to go to the park
• Playing football with my brother
• Tickle fights in bed with Dad
• Getting a letter in the mail
• Time with grandma and grandpa 
• Laughing
• Summer vacations

I resisted at first, wondering how long this game was going to continue.  Still, something changed midpoint.  With each new favorite he listed, my annoyance began to dissipate.  Not only did I become more interested in what he had to say, but I started to think about the little things that I love:  Family movie nights.  The smell of pine trees.  Candles burning.  Quiet walks alone.  Painted toenails.  Finding the perfect Bible verse.  The sound of a child laughing.  My husband’s smile.  Thanksgiving Day.  These are MY favorite things, the little nuggets that buoy my heart and fill seemingly insignificant days with irresistible richness.  As I looked back over my day, I started to see the things I missed.  And slowly, my parched spirit began to be refreshed. 

Perhaps he is on to something.  Rather than investing my energy in reviewing the long list of unwanted duties and missed expectations, what if I willed myself to find joy?  What if I cultivated an attitude of thankfulness?  I considered keeping an ongoing mental list, or maybe even a real one.  It wouldn’t be hard to write down some of my own favorite things on a piece of paper or note card, and then keep them in my purse or in the center console of my car, a 911 resource for those emergency situations.  The rough days will come, certainly.  There is no doubt about that.  Still, I don’t have to let them be in charge of my mood.  Not a day goes by in which God is not active.  He is present at all times, in all ways.  The problem isn’t with him.  It is with me.  Too often, I just plain miss HIM.  My son’s innocent experiment, however, proved to me that five minutes of choosing to rehearse the joys can serve as a rudder to quickly redirect the course of my day. 

With my son’s list done for the moment, the drive home grew quiet.  The silence is what I had wanted all along, but now it seemed deafening.  I was humbled and tendered by a God who understood my exhaustion, but who didn’t want me to miss His presence.  Oh, thank you.  Thank you, sweet Jesus. 

Suddenly, without warning, the Colorado sunset came into full view, in breathtaking splendor.  Though the exhaustion remained, it no longer robbed me of the beauty painting the landscape around me.  Like a Monet hanging on the windshield of my car, I drove with it in front of me the entire way home, the last beams of the day’s light falling full on my face.  And behind me sat a boy, likewise beaming, who was determined to keep the joys of life always in front of him.  

Mental note:   Watching sunsets with my son.  One of my favorite things…

“Many are asking, ‘Who can show us any good?’  Let the light of your face shine upon us, O LORD.  You have filled my heart with greater joy than when their grain and new wine abound.  I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.”  Psalm 4:6-8