“Joy is not in things; it is in us.” Richard Wagner. That’s a good one. You know how I love quotes. That silly contentment journal really did pay off. I feel like I am reaping the benefits of persevering through what I considered a plight of reflecting for 90 whole days in that journal. There is joy in contentment. There is joy, period, if you look for it. Somedays it may take every ounce of strength that I have in my body, but I force myself to find the joy. And if I am being completely honest, there are far more good days than bad. There have been instances where I laugh so hard with my friends that I start crying. That’s pure joy. There are days when the shenanigans of the little three-year-old in my house brings us all delight. He sings, he laughs, he climbs over everything, and he laughs some more. Oh, to have the innocence of a child if only for a fleeting moment. How marvelous it is to watch them literally have the time of their lives every single day. I count it all joy when my vehicle still starts. I force myself to focus on that instead the outrageous amount of money that it just took to fill up my tank. I count it all joy when I hand over my credit card to the air conditioner repair man, choosing not to focus on the bill, but the end of the blistering heat. I count it all joy when I spend my Saturday learning in a seminar instead of shopping or napping after a long week. There are those that would give anything to have the opportunity to sit in a circle and contemplate the meaning of words written by the Greats. There are far too many places where education is considered a luxury, so I count it all joy. As fall nears, I feel like I am finally in my spring season. My winters are over for now. I see the brightness of the sun, the scurrying of squirrels and the ripple of the water in nearby creeks. I see it all now because I have begun to look for it. I force myself to look because nothing has really gone the way I planned it. If I had my way, I would be on a beach or in a cabin, reading and writing the day away. Having my family come visit when they can. I would have a puppy and maybe some chickens running around. I would have inherited millions so that I can travel the globe. But God’s plans are always better than ours and that scenario that I envisioned would be full of solitude and I definitely wouldn’t be fulfilling my purpose. What I have is far better. Our family has grown. We are able to create memories. There are movie nights, trips to the park, camping, Sunday morning services dressed in matching outfits sewn in Nigeria and so many other things. I love it all — looking at the faces of the younger ones and the not so young ones. I can sense that they know that they are blessed. We are all blessed. And maybe one day, we will have that cabin and a few chickens. Bliss, perhaps that’s the word I am looking for. Or almost bliss since I always try to remain calm, and I try not to get too excited. It’s just how I like things — balanced. Even in my calculated state of calmness, I hula hoop with vigor and laugh and then in my mind I scream to the top of my lungs, “I am here, happy and content and I count it all joy!”