I was awakened this morning by best alarm clock, my dog, Desi. When he’s ready to go, his whine sounds almost human. We bundled up and headed out into the snow, and today, he decided he wanted to trot. So we trotted. I was moving with my head down, my eyes on the ground and suddenly, my face and shoulders were filled with snow. I had walked right into a low hanging branch. It was a skinny one that did no harm, and suddenly, I found myself laughing out loud. I was a child again, and I’d just been hit by a very loose snowball. I was overwhelmed with memories of growing up in North Carolina . . . the foot races, the snowball fights, the snow cream my grandmother used to make with a little vanilla extract and milk. I was still laughing when we arrived home. We opened the door to Joel Osteen on the television. He was giving advice to his congregation, which is the size of the crowd at a basketball game or a prize fight. But suddenly, I realized he was talking to me, reminding me that I should not always ask God for things, but that I should thank Him for the things He already did. I should thank him for the joy. “If you remember the victories,” Osteen said, “the times God healed you, the times He promoted you, the times He stopped the accident, the times He turned the problem around – when you’re remembering the right things, you’re going to move forward in faith. You’ll see more of God’s favor.”
I stopped for a moment and thought about the times when I was so low that I couldn’t think about anything but that lowness, the burden of it like a weight on my back.
I wish I had heard Osteen in those low days. But then I realized that I didn’t need Osteen to remind me, although he’s a great reminder. I needed to remember for myself. If used a dual scale with problems and challenges on one side and victories and grace and, quite frankly, the times that God saved me, on the other – that scale would tip over because the good so outweighs the bad.