Steve and I were roaming at one of our very favorite places – Barnes and Noble bookstore. Friday evening. Surrounded by books. Meandering with Steve. Well, not with Steve because we have very different tastes in books, and they are housed in different parts of this store so we just cross paths occasionally. We always set a time we’re going to meet back up, and we never keep that appointment. It’s always at least 20 minutes past that, because you know, it takes time to separate the keepers from those books that have to wait on the shelves a bit longer. [Cue deep sigh.]
The two young children scrambling in the front door made me smile immediately.
Maybe five or six years old, they started skipping. Heading straight for the children’s section. It was obvious that no one needed to tell them where to find it. Their smiles were contagious and their anticipation of what mysteries and stories they would soon discover oozed out of their little faces.
I turned to their dad coming in behind them, intending to say, “That’s what pure joy looks like.”
But before the words left my tongue, the store employee behind the service counter snapped his fingers and pointed sharply at the children with the scolding words, “No running in the store.”
Those two cute kids stopped in their tracks like they’d hit a brick wall. Then they moved slowly down the aisle with their chins pointing at their chests.
My feet wouldn’t move, and I just stared at the man with the name badge. I must have heard wrong, right? Inside my head I was screaming, Really? Are you kidding me?
Good grief.
Yes. There are rules. I get that. But they were skipping. (Imagine I just wrote that last sentence in bold capital letters, highlighted in yellow, with seven exclamation marks at the end.)
Since that Friday evening, several reflections keep swirling around in my brain. None of them seem to help me uncover a deep-thinking point for this little note, but feeling all the feels about that moment and pondering why it struck me so deeply have been worth my time.
Are you tired of rules? I am. And I am one of the best rule-followers in the history of the world. But … ooftah. It’s easy for rules to take the joy out of living sometimes. Especially when the rules seem arbitrary and have very little impact on living a faith-filled and joy-filled life.
Please note: This is not a statement about current rules our country is struggling with during this pandemic. I’m talking about rules that make us wonder … how much do they really matter?
Rules like …
-
- Eat dessert only after you’ve cleaned your plate.
- Don’t wear white after Labor Day.
- Don’t skip in the bookstore.
There are some rules that steal our joy and bend our spirits. We get caught up in wanting rules because it helps us know what is good and what is bad, and who is right and who is wrong. And unfortunately, I’ve found that some of us who follow Jesus have become very good at making sure everyone follows the rules that we have determined to be appropriate. We’ve picked up truth from Instagram and Facebook. It feels right to us, others agree with us, and we stick with it. If only we’d pause and see if it aligns with The Good Book.
We snap our fingers and point them at the rule breakers, pouncing quickly at online comments made by people we don’t even know when we think they are wrong. (It’s so easy to hide behind our screens, isn’t it?) We are trying to make sense of life, and in the process we hurt those who are skipping just a bit too brightly.
Like I said earlier, I don’t have a clear point to these thoughts. But there’s just something about that moment that caused me to think about how I treat people. What joy looks like. And when I might be stifling someone’s moment of simple anticipation. Or mistake (without the word egregious in front of it).
So, as we live and work and try and find our way in this really messy world right now, my swirling brain settles (at least temporarily) on these two ideas …
First, we have got to keep joy in front of us. Let it pop in and out even during those most trying days. Don’t lose sight of the people and events and scenery and books and moments that bring it. And don’t let anyone take it away from you.
And then, don’t steal someone else’s joy. A knee-jerk response with stinging words and judgement may not be our best move. Set aside the criticism and scolding and lead with grace.
If I could relive that moment, I would go up to those energetic kids, squat down, look them in the eye, and tell them, “Don’t let anyone ever take away your love for books or your joy. Your spunk and your spirit make this world a better place. Keep skipping.”
Thank you for letting me ramble a bit here today. It feels good to share a little swirling from my brain and my heart with you.
Don’t lose sight of your own joy.
Be the joy-sharer rather than the joy-taker.:
P.S. Check out this book by Annie F. Downs: “That Sounds Fun: The Joys of Being an Amateur, the Power of Falling in Love, and Why You Need a Hobby.” It’s one of my favorites. It has helped reignite my desire for fun and helped restore it in my own life.
This page contains an Amazon affiliate link. If you purchase a product through this link, your cost will be the same, but I may receive a commission. I only link to books and products I personally love!
