The Pillow that Keeps on Talking

I was never much of a throw-pillow person. First, they cost money, and second, they always seemed to end up on the floor. I finally did buy one that said, "Enjoy Today." A friend came to visit with her two children, and as we sat in the living room talking, I took the pillow, put it on top of the back of the couch, and remarked, "We'll just put this up here to remind us to enjoy today."

In the moment, that seemed better than, "Let's put this up here so your kids don't
throw it on the floor." She was mildly offended that I had to be reminded to enjoy my day when she was here visiting. You see my dilemma.

I still have that pillow. Only now, I do use it to remind myself of that important message. I can get too busy, too distracted, too stressed to really enjoy the day. Life is lamentable for the person who has plenty to live on but nothing to live for. I don't have much stacked up in worldly goods, if I'm honest, but I have plenty to live for. And still, 'enjoy today' can feel like one more item on my to-do list.

I am a type A personality. A high D on the DISC profile. A number 1 on the Enneagram. Choleric, lion...however you describe it, that's me. I hope I have mellowed somewhat over the years; no, I know I have. That process was (and is) arduous and painful, and I haven't yet reached the goal. Honestly, I probably never will this side of eternity, but I am learning.

One of the biggest things that fueled this mellowing was my realization that I wasn't really in control after all. High Ds, number 1s, type As...we like to be in control. Anybody with me? Lots of things happened outside my circle, and I could brush them off, but when things started changing inside the sphere of what I had always controlled, or at least thought I had, it was a time of reckoning.

Watching your children move from under your umbrella of authority and influence to launching out on their own is a classroom in itself. All the adjustments and growing pains are, quite honestly, still happening. (I have apologized to my older children for not understanding this passage of life, and my younger two are definitely the beneficiaries of some hard-learned lessons!)

Bottom line, I could try to hang on tighter, or I could learn to open my fist. Both choices had their own challenge.

The Futility of Striving

Solomon spoke to this in Ecclesiastes 2. He takes stock of everything he built and worked so hard for and comes to a hard conclusion: it was all futile, a pursuit of the wind. He hated his life because of it. He hated that he'd have to leave the fruit of his labor to someone who hadn't earned it, someone who might be wise or might be a fool, and either way, it wouldn't matter, because "one fate comes to them both." That's about as honest as it gets: the truth about what striving feels like when striving is the whole point.

And then, after all of that, he ends up with, “There is nothing better for a person than to eat, drink, and enjoy his work...even this is from God's hand.” Not because he embraced despair, but because he'd finally seen what he'd been missing. Joy was never something he was going to build his way into. It wasn't waiting at the end of the next project, the next accomplishment, the next season when things finally settled down. It was already there, in the common work of everyday life, a gift waiting to be received.

The Joy in Releasing Control

Contentment can sound like a nice word for giving up. It isn't. I began to see that my grip on today was part of the problem. If I was trying to manage the day, I wasn't receiving the gift of it. Control and enjoyment don't share the same hand. You can hold one or the other, but not both at once.

Not long ago, I had a small test of that. I have a fuzzy, white blanket draped over a rocking chair. White. It screams, “Just for looks!” My grandchildren were visiting for a few hours, and one of them asked if she could wrap up in it. There was a day I would have said, “Let me get you another blanket.” And it would have been ok to say. But this day I said yes. It seemed far better to give up control of the perfect whiteness and find happiness in my grandchildren being at my house. Solomon was right: today doesn't have to be controlled. It's a gift, handed to me, mine to enjoy rather than manage.

Now that my children are grown, I have added lots of throw pillows to my furniture; they add a pop of color and warm the room a little. When lots of people visit, they do get messed up and tossed on the floor, but that also stands as a testimony to a houseful of happiness. I choose not to stress out over the pillows; rather, I enjoy the people who are visiting and am thankful for the times we can all be together.

And when they leave, I sigh contentedly and put the pillows back where they belong, smiling to myself as I acknowledge that I did, indeed, “Enjoy Today.”