What Poo Covered Teacups Means to Me

Sometimes days can be hard.

Like sewage-backing-up-into-the-basement-splattering-the-china-your-mother-gave-you hard.

I don't like those kind of days. In fact, I do everything possible to avoid them. I plan, schedule, and prepare so to avoid disasters. And I'm happy, so happy because most of the time my life is full of easy, happy moments.

So when a sinister root successfully breaks into the sewage pipe promoting all manner of poo to come floating though the grate I tend to get a bit irritated. Of course, my dear husband took the lead and conquered the mess (And, whewie!, does that man know how to clean a basement and look good doing it. ;-)

I later went down to manfully perform final inspection and bleach the appliances down.

But before long I was crying, crouching on the floor, hovering over my now brown-and-slimy china set. Like a small child I wept while emptying a stinky, poo-covered tote. Weeping ... I'm sure the construction workers across the street thought I was a crazy.

I was sad and hurt.

Hurt over something we couldn't predict or prepare for. Frustrated over unpleasant events.
Sorrowful for feeling like we had been let down.

A still, small voice whispered, "Give thanks in all things, rejoice." I tried. I failed. I tried again, yet angry emotions continued to appear. I felt worse because I had not succeeded. I wept harder and still He whispered, "Rejoice."
 
"Okay." And in the midst of poo-sodden teacups, over my bleach-burned hands, despite my disappointments I knew joy and peace. I learned a very important, tangible lesson--joy is always present within the sorrow. Circumstances, events, let-downs, disappointments will very often damper happiness but choosing to thankfulness will produce peace and joy.

So let the poo keep on keeping on ... well, not really. It really is the most horrible thing in the world. But may I continue to press into the grace and joy promised me by the Lord.