"Just why?" That was my first thought when I walked in to brush my teeth and found a broken clip sitting on our bathroom counter. WHY doesn't Brad just throw things like this away? Why does he leave it sitting on the counter where I will inevitably be the one to deal with it….
I'm so glad I had to finish brushing my teeth before I reacted; my mouth occupied, so the first thought couldn't pop out.
I can just throw it away.
The clip is the leftover trash from a weekend project—a project my sweet man worked on alone while the rest of us had obligations. We have been scrubbing the carpet for months because our old lady cat heads to our closet to potty more often than not. I considered ripping it out myself, then realized what a tremendous job that would be…
This weekend, Brad tackled it. He pulled up the carpet, cleaned, and laid a waterproof floor, apparently resigned to a future of cat cleanups. While he was at it, he replaced a broken clip that allowed my pants to slide right off the rack randomly. It was annoying, but something I had just dealt with.
This morning, mouth full of mint, I realized I could have overlooked all that hard, thoughtful work by letting a spirit of offense shine brighter.
At that moment, I realized that my whole job in our closet upgrade was throwing away one broken clip.
How often do we miss beauty because we find a flaw? We will find what we are looking for. I want to shine a light on myself. Just why? Why was it my impulse to be annoyed by the heavy burden of throwing away one piece of leftover construction instead of feeling joy that I could help somehow?
There is always an opportunity to be aggravated or annoyed.
How can we take a tooth-brushing break and make sure we aren't spewing morning breath on a situation instead of waiting for our words to be minty fresh? My morning is sure happy I did.