Dear Friends …

We have a mouse in the house. Not kidding. And this is, I’ve almost lost count, the fifth time. After we caught the last one, I was so grateful. I hallelujahed every time I walked in the kitchen, glanced in the laundry room, or opened the pantry.

If you know me, you know I’m over-the-top grateful … and one of the things I’m grateful for is clean, orderly, heavenly-feeling space! So, last night, as I contemplated how to tweak my traps for this very clever mouse, I asked Sam, “What do you think I’m supposed to learn from this?”

Then, this morning, it strikes me that I’m still grateful, very grateful for our home … and the fact that the mouse has NOT ventured into all of it. And then, it dawns on me that when there’s a “problem,” I focus on correcting it. I don’t let it get to me. And without any delay, I tackle it. I’m like my mother that way. Maybe I focus TOO MUCH on what’s “wrong.” But I have to give myself credit for having learned to take mice, and other “pests,” in stride. I even mentioned that to Sam, when trying to get to my lesson.

Then this afternoon, I answered my own question. I shan’t let the quality of my hallelujah be determined by the presence or the absence of a mouse. Just as the quality of my love cannot be determined by the circumstances at hand, neither can my hallelujah.

And I hereby officially stop counting my mice, as though I might be fazed by numbers. And … with the mouse still roaming, I now shout, in my most grateful voice, “Hallelujah!”

Love smiles,