This week I have been meditating on this story I came across in The Message (From Water to Wine – John Chapter 2). There is a great wedding banquet taking place and Jesus’ mom tells him “They’re just about out of wine.” Jesus responds “Is that any of our business . . . Don’t push me.” Then she tells the servants “Whatever he tells you; do it.” There were six 20 to 30 gallon pots and Jesus ordered the servants, “Fill the pots with water.” Then the story says And they filled them to the brim. My meditation has been Is my life full to the brim with faith? When it is 100% full to the brim, this is when mysterious, amazing, unexplainable things happen, that are impossible a part from God’s hand. So, my focus on joy for the month of May has now become Full to the Brim with joy (and faith)!

I don’t like when a pine tree dies in the backyard and has to be removed at great expense, but I am thankful that I have a yard with trees. I don’t like when the house needs some unexpected repair, but I am thankful that I have shelter. I don’t like when my car has an annoying rattle in the rear panel that costs $100 to fix, but I am thankful that I have transportation. I don’t like when there is conflict over an issue with my wife or children, but I am thankful that I can share life and love with my family.

I am sure something will happen today that I don’t like, and I can choose how I will respond. I prefer counting life’s blessings versus being flustered by life’s problems. This is what inspired the song Rivers of Light. Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light (James 1:17). Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear (Isaiah 65:24).

My summer job in high school and college was at a canoe rental in the Florida panhandle (Adventures Unlimited is still a great place to go canoeing or tubing today). I didn’t realize it at the time, but the work taught me about the importance of solitude and silence. There was a stark contrast between busloads of people filled with excitement (and noise) for a day on the Coldwater River, and the solitary work of unloading canoes on the sandbar early in the morning. My favorite job was called “The Top,” where from 7 to 8 a.m. you had to carry 100+ canoes about 30-40 yards down to the “beach” in preparation for the first busloads that would arrive around 8:30 a.m. It was a great physical workout that took about one hour. The reward for this solitary hard work was the 30 minutes of silence lying still in a canoe or in the river, listening to the breeze, the birds and the trickle of the water. I didn’t know that one day I would compose a song called Silence that always reminds me of those early years nurturing my soul with times of solitude and quiet.