I got scammed this weekend. I’ve been dying for a dog. A warm, big, cuddly ball of fur that I can wrap my arms around. You see, my mom died at the beginning of February. And then our little ball of fur of 15 years had the audacity to die two weeks after my mom. So I found a group that advocated “rehoming” our breed of interest, and found a perfect match. The hubs and I wanted to meet the sweet creature and see if she could bring back a ball before we forked over a hefty chunk-of-money. So we headed out crisply at dawn for Memphis…a 4.5 hour drive for us. Without going into the sad details, let me just say that there was no dog to meet.
Furious and betrayed but breathing in barbeque, we drowned our sorrows at Center Street Barbeque. Then we looked around at the cloudless sky, felt a warm breeze, and visited Lichterman Nature Center. And before we knew it, we were laughing at geese, feeding fish, and phoning kinfolks for dinner in Pontotoc.
Y’all, too many days, we allow circumstances to govern how our day will go instead of taking control of it and changing the narrative. How many days have we wasted by labeling them “bad” without looking beyond our moments?
Our Heavenly Father can take any experience we have and use it for our benefit when we invite Him to the party. He can redirect the focus, regroup the feelings, and redeem the function of whatever happened. And before you know it, you had a good day, after all.