Sometimes my boys make me jewelry.
Mostly they make robot aliens and characters from whatever show they are watching. “Look mom, I made this robot with an alien head and four rocket blasters on his feet.” I really had to squint to see that one. Or “Look mom, this is blah-blah from mini-force…” I never quite remember the names of their cartoon heroes…
But yesterday while I was on a work call, they sat and built object after object out of these little disk toys. When my call was over, they showed them to me one by one. “This mommy, is a necklace for you. See how it has so many pretty flowers?” one said as he gently placed the necklace over my head. Not to be outdone, a second brother placed a bracelet around my wrist. “See how big and beautiful it is! Just for you!” he exclaimed as he put it on my waiting wrist.
They finished adorning me with their jewelry creations and then went back to creating strange creatures… and eventually fighting over the small disks and throwing them all over the playroom. But for just a minute, they had spent time and energy creating something out of love just for me.
I can often focus more on the disasters than the moments of love. I can wake up in the morning and walk into the playroom stepping on random painful disks that somehow missed the forced afternoon clean up and start my day grumpy. My mind more often remembers the tantrums and the fights and the stresses of life instead of the moments of joy and pure gift.
What about you?
So today I’m looking back at the plastic disk jewelry placed over my head and around my wrist and reminding myself to hold onto these moments of demonstrated love.
My prayer today is that we hold on tight to tiny moments of joy, small instances of love shown to us… and let them fortify us as we wade through this messy life.
“Joy is not the same as happiness. We can be unhappy about many things, but joy can still be there because it comes from the knowledge of God’s love for us. . . . Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day.” – Henri Nouwen