It's a Monday, but that doesn't mean it has to be a bad day. I'm off work and a lot of my day's activities aren't particularly exciting. But something about ordinary, everyday activities makes me reflective. Today's to-do list included:

  • wipe down bathroom counters
  • vacuum
  • renew library card
  • pick up anniversary gift for N
  • laundry
  • change sheets + swap out duvet cover for quilt
  • go for a run + stretch
  • coffee shop activities: knit + write a letter to a friend

So there you have it. A day's activities. Nothing too thrilling, but there are so many blessings hidden between those bullet points. When I look between the tasks, I can choose to see a safe home to clean, legs that not only allow me to walk, but run, our own washer and dryer, sweet friends to write to, and a Creator that loves beauty and creativity. Someday, I'll enjoy looking back to what I did on a regular day in the summer of 2015. I hope I'll foremost remember Who gave me that day, that new sunrise, and those ordinary activities. Charles Spurgeon (again) says it so well:

It is always beneficial to praise the Lord; it cheers the day and brightens the night; it lightens toil and softens sorrow; and over earthly gladness it sheds a sanctifying radiance which makes it less liable to blind us with its glare. Have we not something to sing about at this very moment? Can we not weave a song out of our present joys, or our past deliverances, or our future hopes?

Personally, I need to mind my attitude regarding the weather. Today is really hot. One-hundred degrees hot, in fact. This is how I'm staying cool and trying to have joy in the heat:

  • wearing linen tees—they're breathable and lightweight
  • keeping my Hydroflask as my constant companion
  • accepting that I'll be glistening (ahem) from the moment I go outside, every time I go outside
  • trying out new hairstyles that get my hair out of my face
  • praising God for all the air-conditioned indoor spaces of Austin, Texas (really)

Because the question we should ask ourselves is:

Why should an ordinary day contain less joy than a special day?  It shouldn't.

Our Mondays and ordinary days could use less lamenting and more songs of joy. We're no less redeemed on a really hot day or a frustrating day or an exhausting day. So, let's have good ordinary days, shall we?