I’m addicted to mugs. Coffee mugs in particular. Although to my thinking coffee and mug are somewhat synonymous since one always hears of teacups, never tea mugs. Teacups, those small, fragile little china cups the British use to drink their morning, noon, tea-time and evening tea.
I’m not a tea drinker. I’ve tried. I really have. I just can’t do it. I like my coffee.
I like it lot. Or as a young friend used to say,
“I yike it. I yike it a yacht.”
I tried. I really tried.
I couldn’t stop myself.
Apparently I still can’t stop myself. In the past few days I’ve managed to snag two new mugs.
That is the latest one. I couldn’t stop myself. It spoke to me. It really did.
Filled with Joy.
The past few years God has given me a word for each holiday season. And I’ve managed to find a mug with that one word on it. True this year has two words (and if you count the silly words on the inside it has 4), but the word Joy.
God has been hammering it in to my heart the past few months.
I always have the option to choose joy. Always.
And it’s always my choice. I can choose joy or I can choose not. But it is my choice alone. I can’t not choose it and blame the neighbors for my choice.
I can choose joy in the midst of my crazy life.
I can choose to be filled with joy in my hectic schedule.
I can choose to be filled with joy in the drive thru lane at McDonalds.
I can choose to be filled with joy when around people who desire to steal my joy.
It’s my choice.
Filled with it. Filled up with it. Filled to the brim and running over with it. That is the joy I want to have this season. I want to have the joy Jesus talked about. I want to have the abundant life filled with joy that He promises.
But I have to make the choice. Repeatedly. Every day. All day. Every minute. Every second. Every hour.
I’m not naive enough to think it will be easy. Oh heavens no. It will be hard. Probably incredibly difficult. I’ll most likely want to quit. But it is vital that I don’t. It’s of utmost urgency that I persevere.
Failure is not an option.