I’m
reading chapter three of Fight Back With Joy: Celebrate More. Regret Less. Stare
Down Your Greatest Fears by Margaret Feinberg, and one line
stops me cold.
She’s describing the
first treatment of chemotherapy to deal with her breast cancer. She discovers
it’s not as bad as she expected (the “bad” comes later, she says). But still
there are effects, and she applies some wisdom to her situation, deciding the
pile of colorful laundry doesn’t have to be done immediately.
She considers the
Apostle Paul, and his affliction. Whatever it was, it was serious enough for
Paul to keep asking God to take it away. God doesn’t. And it’s okay. “For Paul,”
Feinberg writes, accepting his circumstances is the secret to being content in
them.”
And then the line
that stops me cold.
“The journey to joy begins with acceptance.”
My mind goes
immediately to my work, the work that has brought me little if any joy in the
past four years. The “little if any joy” has played a role in my upcoming
retirement.
And I think:
Acceptance.
Joy.
Acceptance.
Joy.
I arrive at work on
Monday, and am almost immediately hit with not one but two joy killers. One is
a chronic and recurring event; the other is one I’d call acute and one-time.
Last Friday, I would
have narrowed my eyes, frowned, and said something choice, if true. My blood
pressure would have risen. I would have felt my back start to act up.
On Monday, after
reading Feinberg’s chapter the night before, I paused. I considered. I told
myself I had been beating my head against the same wall for years, with nothing
to show for it except aggravation, indigestion and stress on my back. It’s one
of the reasons I’m retiring.
Acceptance. Joy. Acceptance. Joy.
I let both
situations go.
I made some
suggestions, but I let them go.
If the world comes
to an end as a result, I thought, well then, the world will just have to come
to an end. Somehow, I think the world will survive.
Did I immediately
experience my physical being flooded with warmth and joy?
No, I can’t say that
I did.
But what I did
experience was a sense of calm. I’ll take calm.
Calm is good.
Led by Jason Stasyszen
and Sarah Salter, we’re reading Fight Back with Joy. To see more posts
on this chapter, “Three Simple Words to Set You Free,” please visit Jason at Connecting to Impact.
Photograph by George Hodan via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
Acceptance is waving the white flag...not the white flag of surrender, the white flag flown when the lead driver begins the race's final lap. They only look similar
ReplyDeleteThis chapter was very powerful to me and my thinking. I'm with you--I didn't feel a rush of joy or euphoria, but I did feel settled. I was praying again this morning that God would teach me to accept things more quickly. Living in denial doesn't work at all. Great application and thoughts, Glynn. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteSo thrilled Chapter 3 could be applied in such a timely manner, Glynn. Love watching God continue to work through Fight Back With Joy!
ReplyDelete