Finding Joy in the Moment

When I was growing up, going to a restaurant was considered a major treat. Monday through Friday, we ate dinner as a family, with places set, and a combination of main courses and side dishes. As a picky eater, I got myself in a lot of trouble at dinner time. “If you do not like what I am fixing, you can still sit there and not complain,” my mom would have to remind me. I still huffed and puffed, only happy when it was pizza or Cajun chicken as the main offering. 

If we did go out to eat, it was typically McDonald's on a Sunday and it was quite methodical what our order would be: 4 cheeseburgers, one medium fry and a large drink. Since there were free refills, my parents supposed four straws would work better than four cups for both our family and our budget. My dad would pay with a five and one dollar bill and would get a few pennies back. I know I’m showing my age here, but every item ordered was less than a dollar except the fries. And that was it. No dessert or value meals or extras, just 7-8 fries a piece, a “delicious” cheeseburger, and a soda with free refills. Somewhere between his fifth fry and his last bite of the cheeseburger, my dad would look at us with joy on his face and say “isn’t this fun?” Sometimes we would eat in the playland area, so I assumed he must be referring to the tunnels I was about to crawl through, but it turns out, as I figured out years later, he was just referring to our outing in general and referencing the food we were all devouring- McDonald's at that. 

Last night I ordered DoorDash because Lily had a few friends staying the night. I was craving pizza because of all this Pizza Week madness, and so I chose Donatos (10/10 by the way). It took forever to arrive and I was pretty impatient by the time I got a notification that my dasher was on his way. When it finally notified me that the order had been delivered, I jumped off the couch and ran to the door like there was a cash prize waiting for me. Only after the door swung wide open and there was no food to be found, did I start to panic a little. Swiping through my app, I saw a doorstep that looked nothing like mine. “Is it at my next-door neighbor’s house again?” I wondered— clearly annoyed. 

Showing the image to Josh, I asked him where he thought my delivery was.

“Laura, that’s a school,” he told me, and I was suddenly more annoyed than ever. 

I had last ordered food to CVMS, so this one was on me for not changing my location back to home. I jumped in the car, drove to College View, and pulled in the empty parking lot to discover my precious pizza piled next to the front door. By the time I finally got it home, it wasn’t even hot anymore, but I didn’t care because I was so famished.

Sitting in the garage floor watching Josh edit pictures, I began to dig in to the plate I had hurriedly prepared for myself. 

“Wow, this is fun,” I thought to myself.

I paused. 

What was fun?

Eating room temperature pizza sitting on a concrete floor?

I took another glorious bite. I could feel the calm of a Friday night with nowhere to be except on a Door Dash goose chase. The girls were painting at the kitchen table, the baby was asleep and the boys were having a rare moment playing together in the other living room. I had nowhere to be except at home, and boy was that fun.

So maybe my dad was on to something when he asked us that question over Sunday lunch so many years ago. 

It is fun to slow down. It is fun to not have to cook. It is fun to be surrounded by people you love. It’s not the quality of the food that makes it fun, but the quality of the people. 

1 Thessalonians 5:18 says “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.“

Pausing in the moment to be grateful for simple things will bring you joy you didn’t even expect.