Drowning Your Happy
The inevitable fit.
The tantrum on the floor.
The mighty meltdown in the middle of the grocery store.
If you are a mom, you have experienced an unwanted play of toddler dramatics at some point. Usually, they save their best work for an audience. And not just any audience, an impatient one. Oh yes, it’s usually the candy strategically placed on the bottom shelves of the checkout line. Sometimes, it’s the ten-dollar balloon flitting above their precious heads, or it’s the buttons on the credit card pad. They just want to push the red one.
Again and again.
Doing your best to quell the commotion, you look around to see sideways glances and hear impatient sighs. If you are lucky, you’ll catch the compassionate eyes and nodding understanding of a fellow mother. Then you throw your card at the cashier and wrangle the child in the cart as you make a mad dash for the door.
On a recent trip to the store, my toddler actually stayed in the cart shaped like a car. He spun the wheel and made high-octane-level racecar noises as we neared the register. I did my best to lower his voice, placing my finger to my lips and then to his. My shushing noise reverberated back to me with a wild grin.
And then he began to race again.
I shrugged my shoulders and looked around. Everyone was grinning and giggling except for the woman behind me. She looked rather cross, so I did my best to lower the noise. He quieted for a few seconds, and then his engine revved again.
Apologizing to the cashier, he laughed and commented how happy my son was. And the lady bagging the groceries grabbed my boy a balloon.
Immediately, I felt ashamed. I let the one lady who could probably use a good belly laugh determine my level of embarrassment and my son’s level of joyful noise.
Friend, how many times have you let something or someone else drown out your happiness?
We often let our circumstances, the dirty dishes, and the weather intrude on our inner bliss.
We allow a person or a so-called friend to define our worth. Our popularity and the number of likes we receive become our prize.
Our diseases and disabilities hinder our impact when we allow our inabilities to speak loudly in our minds.
We measure our income or the importance of our job as a level of success. When we should determine what success means to us in the first place.
Yes, we often look to an audience and our surroundings to define who we are. When all along, we can find who we are meant to be in the unconditional love of the One.
In case you don’t already know, this is what Jesus says about you:
You are worth dying for.
You are valuable.
You are His new creation.
You will be transformed.
You have His spirit.
You are wanted company.
And you are beautiful.
The next time you catch yourself seeking validation in worldly things or other people, meditate on these “you” statements as you turn them into “I’s.”