Good Things Happen
'Good things always happen to me.' The words were out of my mouth before I realized how cocky they sounded. Out of context. Luckily the friend I was speaking to had a bit of context, but I fear not nearly enough. She had just reassured me that (after a couple bumpy weeks) good things were coming to me. It was a very sweet gesture that I blew apart in typical Stacee fashion. I knew what I meant. Sadly, I'm not always the best at choosing my words or my moments. I can only hope that my friend took my words for what they were - the non-cocky Gospel Truth, as I see it. I may not always sparkle with pixie dust and sunshine, but regardless my glass is invariably at least half full.
Good things do always happen to me. Take last night for example. While waiting for a friend to show up for dinner, I enjoyed a bowl of half-price queso. And a mango margarita. Following a big dip of a big chip, a large drop of queso slopped off a chip hitting my hand and..... wait for it...... The table. It could have easily dripped on my shirt but it didn't. Yes, good things happen to me.
By 'good things', I don't mean the big score. I'm the unluckiest person who ever lived so I'm not holding my breath waiting for the 'Golden Ticket'. I'm not going to win the lottery and Ashley Judd isn't going to knock on my door. Harvard Divinity School isn't going to give me a full-ride scholarship. Stuff like that doesn't happen. To me. I'm sure it happens to someone but, historically speaking, that person isn't me. I don't see myself as a negativist in this regard. Why bog myself down with such fanciful day dreams when I can spend my time experiencing all kinds of (smaller) good things?
The day I decided that I was blessed, I was. It took awhile to get there but, once I finally made it, I realized that it had always been so. I looked back over my life and realized that good things have always happened to me. It wasn't something new. It didn't start when I discovered God or became a Christian. It was simply a matter of perspective. My perspective. What I chose to see. I could easily look out over life and be pissed about a zillion things - my parents' divorce, the traffic in Austin, the break-up three weeks after moving to Texas, my bad shoulder, the swimmer on my triathlon team dropping out the week before the biggest triathlon of the season, lost friends, my house that won't sell. having to clean queso off a table. I promise I could keep going. As I said above, I'm no different than anyone when it comes to luck.
I am, however, different when it comes to how I see the world. I see blessings, not curses. Grace exists. It lives, breaths, and surrounds us every moment of every day. Even on the shittiest days. If I don't see it immediately, I've learned to get out two hands and a flashlight and dig for it. If I can't find it that way, I create it. Redundant or not, I truly believe that there is Grace in working for Grace.
This is why good things always happen to me. And why I so confidently blurted it out to my friend yesterday. I didn't want her to be concerned about me and my seemingly bumpy road. She's a newer friend and people have a tendency to worry about me when they don't know me and how blessed I am. Remember, though, I'm no different than anyone. No more blessed. No more miraculous. I simply choose to see it. Good things don't just always happen to me. They happen to everyone.
Good things do always happen to me. Take last night for example. While waiting for a friend to show up for dinner, I enjoyed a bowl of half-price queso. And a mango margarita. Following a big dip of a big chip, a large drop of queso slopped off a chip hitting my hand and..... wait for it...... The table. It could have easily dripped on my shirt but it didn't. Yes, good things happen to me.
By 'good things', I don't mean the big score. I'm the unluckiest person who ever lived so I'm not holding my breath waiting for the 'Golden Ticket'. I'm not going to win the lottery and Ashley Judd isn't going to knock on my door. Harvard Divinity School isn't going to give me a full-ride scholarship. Stuff like that doesn't happen. To me. I'm sure it happens to someone but, historically speaking, that person isn't me. I don't see myself as a negativist in this regard. Why bog myself down with such fanciful day dreams when I can spend my time experiencing all kinds of (smaller) good things?
The day I decided that I was blessed, I was. It took awhile to get there but, once I finally made it, I realized that it had always been so. I looked back over my life and realized that good things have always happened to me. It wasn't something new. It didn't start when I discovered God or became a Christian. It was simply a matter of perspective. My perspective. What I chose to see. I could easily look out over life and be pissed about a zillion things - my parents' divorce, the traffic in Austin, the break-up three weeks after moving to Texas, my bad shoulder, the swimmer on my triathlon team dropping out the week before the biggest triathlon of the season, lost friends, my house that won't sell. having to clean queso off a table. I promise I could keep going. As I said above, I'm no different than anyone when it comes to luck.
I am, however, different when it comes to how I see the world. I see blessings, not curses. Grace exists. It lives, breaths, and surrounds us every moment of every day. Even on the shittiest days. If I don't see it immediately, I've learned to get out two hands and a flashlight and dig for it. If I can't find it that way, I create it. Redundant or not, I truly believe that there is Grace in working for Grace.
This is why good things always happen to me. And why I so confidently blurted it out to my friend yesterday. I didn't want her to be concerned about me and my seemingly bumpy road. She's a newer friend and people have a tendency to worry about me when they don't know me and how blessed I am. Remember, though, I'm no different than anyone. No more blessed. No more miraculous. I simply choose to see it. Good things don't just always happen to me. They happen to everyone.
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