One woman said to me, “You’re the luckiest man alive! Look at her!”
I nodded my head. “Yep.”
I sure do feel blessed to have my little girl in my life. I completely understand that woman’s sentiment, and I definitely felt like a proud father, even though all I was doing was enjoying her enjoyment. But I also like to stay away from the word “luck” as much as possible.
In fact, we’ve got this little kid’s book with a squishy ladybug on the front that makes a little squeak when you push it. The book used to be called “Lucky Ladybug” but I changed it. Everywhere in the book, the cover, every single page in fact, I crossed out the word “lucky” and wrote in “happy.” I just don’t like the idea that luck has anything to do with it.
If I’ve got to choose a word to describe the unmerited goodness in our lives, I like the word “blessed” more. It feels like it gives at least a little bit of credit to “someone” (God in my case). Not that God always has to do with things, heck, not even top theologians can agree on what level God is involved in our lives, but what I like about using the word “blessed” is it builds in us a sense of thankfulness.
Sure, life isn’t going the way we’d planned, but we can still be thankful. I can tell a mile away when someone is thankful or not. The thankful people are full of smiles, peace, happiness, joy. The others are usually negative. Usually finding all sorts of reasons not to take pleasure in the small things.
My approach is, we may as well take pleasure in the smallest morsels, because frankly, when you start to total them all up, they make up all of life. And if we’re not taking pleasure in this life, then what’s the point?