Keeping perspective during a half-empty, half-full kind of day

If I had posted Facebook statuses throughout my day yesterday, it might have sounded rather miserable. But when I look at it with a half-full approach, I realize it was actually a perfectly fine day.

Bad: Our son got sick in the car on the way to school.

Good: He told me ahead of time and managed to vomit into a bag. I am in no hurry for our 3-year-old to learn to read, but these are valuable life skills. (And, no, I don’t know where my cakesaver was.)

Bad: The traffic on our morning commute was horrible.

Good: We hadn’t gone too far when we had to turn around to go home.

Bad: I couldn’t deliver the baked goods we had planned to take for Teacher Appreciation Week.

Good: I didn’t deliver my sons to school only for the teachers to have to clean up a mess—or be vomited on. The teachers may not feel appreciated, but I’m sure they will appreciate that the sickness was discovered before we arrived.

Bad: I couldn’t get an appointment to see the pediatrician until almost noon.

Good: Because the appointment was at mid-day, my husband was able to meet us and spend time with our older son so I didn’t have both boys running around the pediatrician’s office. We got to see him and spend time together on a playground before he went back to work.

Bad: We’re dealing with yet another ear infection. Ugh.

Good: They’re just ear infections. They get cured. We are blessed beyond measure to have two healthy children.

Bad: We ate lunch late and the boys were overtired.

Good: When they finally fell asleep for naps, they slept for more than two hours.

Bad: I had to take an unscheduled day off from work.

Good: If I had to miss a day, it was the best day for me to miss all week. And despite the illness, everyone was well enough to enjoy spending time together.

It’s all a matter of perspective. For some reason yesterday I kept noticing the bullets we had dodged, or how the situation could have been more difficult. It makes me realize how often God must be in the details, and yet I fail to notice Him there.

Some days maybe it’s not a question of whether the glass is half-empty or half-full, but just recognizing how great it is that no one dropped and shattered the glass on the floor during breakfast.

You have to admit, that is pretty fantastic. After all, that could easily happen tomorrow.