I Don't Yike It

When my daughter Meghann was a little girl, she would often say, "I don't yike it, Mommie." She didn't "yike" green beans or sand or bugs or the color yellow or riding in her car seat or being told what to do. I always found it curious that for all the things that Meghann liked, she didn't say, "I yike it." Instead, she always said, "Mmmm, that's good." Things like puppies or the color blue or baths or a certain pair of white tennis shoes or her dolls were always worthy of an "Mmmm, that's good" comment.

I've always considered myself to be a fairly positive and upbeat kind of gal. I make friends fairly easily, and I get along pretty well with most people with whom I have a relationship. I try to look for the good in every situation, and I strive to encourage others to do the same. I've always been a glass half-full person ... an "Mmmm, that's good" lady rather than an "I don't yike it" woman.

Recently, however, my glass has been kind of empty, and I've found myself more and more often not "yiking" things or situations or events. I don't yike that I can never have another Starbucks frappucino for the rest of my life. I don't yike that my basement has sprung a leak. I don't yike that there are days at work when I simply can't do everything that needs to be done. I don't yike that I no longer drive a Jeep Wrangler. I don't yike the cold weather and that it makes my feet hurt. I don't yike that I have to take so much medication or have someone accompany me to the doctor.

As I thought about my seeming tendency to trend toward the negative, I find myself more determined not to be consumed by the darkness that is trying to creep into my life. I am acutely aware of the need to search for the "Mmmm, that's good" parts of my daily walk ... sugar-free cinnamon roll pudding with sugar-free Cool Whip on top, a warm home on a cold night, a job that provides for my needs and some of my wants, a reliable car that gets me where I need to go, thermal underwear and having feet to walk on, drugs to keep my diabetes under control and people who love me enough to care about my health. Mmmm ... those are good ... no, those are wonderful things.

So, here's to glasses that are half-full, to "Mmmm, that's good," and to everything in between. Here's to God blessing me with another day, another breath, another chance to live.