This is a Stick Up!

Robbing me of my joy. That's been a saying I've heard all my life. From family, from friends, from the pulpit, over speakerphone with hundreds of miles of distance between. Most of the time I sulk and think, "How can they rob me of something I don't even have?"

How easily we forget. How quickly we tire of the things we so desperately prayed for. How quickly we want more.

I keep moving the finish line. I'll feel better when we have an apartment, I'll feel better when I have a job, I'll feel better once we've packed and are on the road, I'll feel better once we're there, once we've unloaded, once we've unpacked, once pictures are on the wall.

And on.

And on.

And on.

At least I know I do it, right? Do I get points for that? Probably not. But I catch myself moving that ribbon further and further down the track and I wonder why I'm so exhausted. It's because I force myself to keep running. I never arrive. I'm always onto the next thing.

I wish I could say things feel magical here in Maine. Part of it does. Part of me hasn't even settled in and been able to feel like it's real yet. But part of me is so sucked up by the mundane that I'm losing sight of the blessings I cried over just over a month ago. And I don't want that.

If someone is trying to rob you of your joy, obviously the "right" answer is to not let them. But for me, it's a little deeper than that. It's reminding myself that there's joy to be had and found and held onto. Once I do that, people might not even need to rob me of it. I'll probably share.