All the time?

Last week was Grandparent's Day. No, I'm not in second grade, I do actually attend Trinity Christian College, an institution of higher learning, and yes, we have Grandparent's Day. WHAT ABOUT IT, HUH?! (Sorry, I'm defensive of our little traditions, as silly as they seem to most 'normal' people.) My two cousins and I got to spend a few hours with my mom's mother, who is a wonderful person. They had a speaker at one point during the program who chose a topic that got me thinking. She was saying that times don't have to be easy in order for them to be good.

The gray haired audience had the benefit of lots of years of evidence to attest to her message. They can look back and see how everything shakes out for their ultimate good. Even my 45-year-old dad (Okay he's not that age by any means, but I'm trying to help a brotha out) told me last weekend that he has enough experience with hindsight to see this truth. The truth of how there isn't a meaningless rhythm to life; how there is a purpose behind all of those weird events that leave us asking, What on earth is going to happen to me?

I've been pondering this idea for awhile. Honestly, it's because things have been going my way for the most part in the past month or so - particularly when it comes to my future plans. Doors have been opened and things have fallen into place like I can't even believe. I truly could not have planned it better myself. (Ha, I would probably have messed it up if it were.) I can fill you in on these details soon and very soon. (!!!)

SO. Lately I've been thinking, "Wow, I am pretty blessed. Life is good. God is good." 

But aren't those things always good? What a stupid thing to assume that all of a sudden these things started to be good! Was life no good when I was having an off day? Was life not worth living in January when I had a minor breakdown every five minutes at each glance at my planner's revelation that "GRADUATION" was penciled in and hurling at me like a freight train? Was God no good when people asked, "What are you considering for a career path?" and I coped by making some stupid joke about plans to open a grammar store with my English major? (I forget who I stole that joke from, but it's worth a laugh every time. Well I laugh at it. Therefore, it's funny.) Was God not good when I saw all those diamond ring pictures pop up on facebook and my fourth finger on my left hand was (and still is - don't get any ideas pal!) glaringly sans adornment? Was I not blessed when I felt confused about my future and where I was meant to be for the next little segment of my life?

The answer to all of these, of course, is no. 

I have always been blessed, life is always good, and God is always good. I have a theory that God gets sick of my aforementioned meltdowns and sometimes has to smack me over the head with good stuff just to make me shut up with all the complaints. As much experience as I have with trying to remind toddlers and little kids to stop whining, I'm not such a great role model in that department myself. Oops. 

What changes, then, is not the blessings, life, or God, but me. Or I guess, more specifically, my perspective. Too often we (well at least I do) let the junk going on around us decide whether or not things are good. God was still perfectly good on the day my Grandma died last year. Life was still good when I felt completely scared and alone that first week in Spain. I'm still blessed beyond comparison when friendships are tarnished, promises are broken, and plans don't work out. Yet I'm still like the whiny 3-year-old who can only see four inches in front of her own shoes. Here's the  problem with this: when I start qualifying the goodness of my life, blessings, and God, it makes me the one who determines all this stuff. It makes me the center of attention. And it makes me the one in charge of making it all happen. But I don't want to make it happen. I can't make it happen. Not on my own. 

So, if you ask me if God is good all the time, I will tell you yes. Because in the highs and lows, he doesn't change. The goodness of this life we live doesn't waver. 

And that, to me, makes it worth living, and living well.