I woke up this morning and my head felt like there was someone inside it who was trying to bust out. And along with the helium-head, my body longed for more sleep. It's official. I'm sick.
Colds are a funny thing. Not so funny that I'm laughing at others when they get one--more in the sense that there is a whole shift in how we do things when we have one. We've contracted this thing and now we need to get rid of it. We'll take medicine, get more sleep, eat saltine crackers, avoid dairy, watch TV, change our toothbrush, and tell everyone we know about our cold. All of our stories either begin or end with how we have a cold. I'd even say we're more apt to sigh or groan aloud just to make sure others know we're really serious.
When I got to work I just wanted to drive back home and go to bed. But there is work to be done and people waiting on me. I grabbed some Subway and sat down at my desk to think about the day when a few thoughts popped into my bloated head.
As I pulled a Sandwich Artist's long, gray hair out of my Cold Cut Trio, I stopped to think about how much having the right perspective about the day changes everything. Sure, a nasty hair in my sandwich is suuuper gross. It really is (you should see it). But maybe she's a single mom who was in a hurry to get her kids to school and she forgot to put on her hair net when she got to work. Maybe she has female baldness. Who knows? In the big scheme of things, a hair in my sandwich isn't so bad. Neither is having a cold--or feeling tired as I sit in my comfy leather office chair.
The truth is, I have it really good. Better than I deserve. Sure, I don't like working in a cubicle. I'd rather be out climbing mountains and writing symphonies. But as the Apostle Paul reminds us in Romans: "We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
I am not defined by my job or my degree. I'm not defined by my failings or my sin. I can choose to have a good attitude despite my circumstances. This is joy. Happiness comes and goes. But joy persists through triumphs and trials. In fact, I'm actually thankful that I have a cold and there was a hair in my food. These things gave me the reminder I needed to press on toward eternity and not sweat the small stuff.
Did I mention I have a cold?
