Finding Joy on a Terrible Day


"I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day." This is the first sentence of a book I used to read to my kids (quite some time ago now!) and you have probably read to yours (and one I am sure to be reading soon to my grandkids!). The book is titled, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. It was first published forty years ago and its sales are still going strong.Why? Because all of us can relate to Alexander’s plight. We all have those days when we wished we could crawl back into bed and restart the day. Yesterday was one of those days for me. Any day you have to call a tow truck to get your car back on the driveway would classify as one of those terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days (check out my post from yesterday for the details).

Yet in the midst of my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, I was reminded of a very precious and powerful truth. No matter how much life seems to unravel around me, God is with me. He is ordering my steps. He is directing my path.  Nothing – absolutely NO-THING comes into my life that has not first passed through His hands (see Ephesians 1:11). Knowing this, I can rejoice even in the midst of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. My heavenly Father is allowing me to walk this hard path because He loves me and he wants to grow me in my faith. Therefore, I can “count it all joy” when I encounter various trials, knowing that my Abba is at work through these trials to do His work in me (James 1:2-4)! When I got a hold of that perspective yesterday – all of a sudden my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day didn’t seem so terrible, horrible, no good, very bad any more. 

Thank you, Father, for helping me to see life from your perspective. 

And thank YOU for stopping by . . . 
pj

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