Some days seem plain gloomy. Days when you wake up feeling out of sorts or out of fuel. Today is one of those days, but I haven’t a clue as to why. Could it be the unfair 5 pounds I put on every year right before swimsuit season? Could it be my oldest child will turn the age I believe I am next week, or could it be the rain? I feel homesick, but I am home.  I think I am suffering from “yuckiness.”

The cartoon Garfield did make me laugh this morning when his owner, Jon, read him a bedtime story which was the recipe for Lasagna.  Actually, it sounded like a good idea until I concluded I would probably put on another pound just reading the ingredients. I saw another cartoon about a dog and his birthday, and then I remembered I really couldn’t be the same age as my child, could I?

OK, the cartoons weren’t helping the dreariness.

Then I thought, “I’ll try giving myself a facial. I will lift my gloomy face to youthfulness with one of those dollar cucumber masks.” I washed my face looked in the mirror and decided the world does not produce enough cucumbers to lift the fallen whatever it is the mirror is reflecting. 

OK, the mask was a bad idea unless I put a cloth mask on my eyes and go back to bed.   

Oops, I need to wash the sheets. The smell of fresh linens usually makes me feel better. I always hated to wash clothes when the kids were little, but now it is my favorite chore to do. Why did those kids grow up? I need them to come back now that I enjoy doing laundry.

OK, now I know why I feel homesick. I want to go back to the house where all the kids ran around my yells, where the washing machine spun all day, where I apparently left my face, and I was the same age as my daughter is now.

I don’t think I will wash those sheets.

My friend Ricki came over for dinner the other night and brought me a gift of the new devotional book, Jesus Always by Sarah Young. Perhaps I need to find wisdom through words other than Garfield’s. 

The first sentence I read in the little book said, “I am God, your joy, and your delight. Knowing I am your joy can protect you from bemoaning your circumstances or envying others whose situations seem better than yours.”

I turned around immediately to see if the Lord was standing in the kitchen cooking lasagna. How did he know I needed to hear those words? Oh, yeah, my gloomy yuckiness was not allowing me to see his joy which only required a bit of stirring.

After reading and praying a bit, I realized the only way I am going to fit in that bathing suit is to quit eating so much. You know the only way to lift my face falling on the floor is to smile? And, you know the only way to not miss my children so much is to embrace the years they have called me “mom” and to know one of them is now my age. 

I believe God throws us dreary days occasionally to teach us to search for sunshine within. It is there where we find God’s light. He reminds us he is always standing in the kitchen or anywhere we are. 

He knows the sadness in our hearts or the unexplainable gloom in our souls. When we don’t understand it, he does. That alone is worth being joyful. 

The house is quiet, and as I write, I realize writing was not on my agenda today. Here in my office is where God sends me to find joy. I didn’t connect those dots until now. He knew through his words of wisdom, his comfort, and his support. I would find sunshine in the place I always do, right here where my soul pours words on paper.

OK, I am all better now. Maybe I’ll try that facial again, do some sit-ups, wash those sheets, and thank God for bringing sunshine into my kitchen today.