One (or two or even three) bad hours does not a bad day make. I learned this truth while struggling with my daughter's Borderline Personality Disorder. We had celebrated a marvelous "Jaralene" Day (Jaran + Jolene, the day between their March birthdays). Grammy was there, a rare treat. We had eaten out, opened presents, gone to a movie, and settled down to a game of Chinese checkers.
Jolene, who had behaved well all day long, fell apart. She threw the game board across the floor and stormed to her room. Mom was shaken. I was disappointed, but surprised? Not so much.
Mom said, "What a terrible day."
I said, "No, it wasn't. It was a good day, with a bad spot in the middle. I have learned to treasure the good hours--the good minutes, at times--because I rarely have an entire day that is 'good.'"
This weekend I thought about that long ago Jaralene day. For three hours, I was miserable and angrier than a hornet,to use a cliche. I needed help, and it took three hours to get it.
I decided those three hours didn't have to destroy the good day's work or the good night's rest, any more than Jolene's tantrum had to destroy our Jaralene day.
That philosophy jumped to my mind when I read the above verse. Come to God in the morning, hear His loving voice. Keep it in mind all day, so that by the time I go to sleep, I still feel like I'm floating on the cloud of His love. It reads like a seamless transition from love and God's presence in the morning to trust at night.
Sounds good. But where my life hits, my days are rarely that smooth. Perhaps if I made a better discipline of the remainder of the psalm, my days would go better.
- Stay on the road God has marked for me.
- Hope in God, not elsewhere.
- Follow where the Holy Spirit leads.
- Watch while God vanquishes my enemies.
Like any loving parent, God loves us morning, noon, and night. If we wake up to the sound of His voice and go to sleep remembering His goodness, He will declare it a good day.
Today's favorite verse: I wonder why you care, God--why do you bother with us at all? All we are is a puff of air; we're like shadows in a campfire. (Psalm 144:3-4, MSG)