Finding Joy day 5

Time is a bandit.  He came by and stole my morning today.  I woke up, sleepy, stretched, started working, accomplished little and now it is already 10:30!  He seems to have a real knack for that;Time that is.

It seems he steals a lot of things more than mornings.  He steals our youth, our children, our ability to work and think.  Just yesterday he stole my cell phone.  Or my memory of where I put it.

Ever have one of those days?  Or a string of them?  Where you can't find something you just had, like your keys, or your purse, or your cell phone?  Or the thought of what you were just thinking?  That is Time at work, secretly stealing your brain cells. 

On my hunt for my cell phone, I looked all the usual places.  I had left it on vibrate, so without being close to it, I couldn't discern its whereabouts.  I picked up the house phone to call it, but nothing.  Then the dog started barking.  That not only distracted me, but it annoyed me.  I kept telling her to be quiet so I could hear it, but apparently she doesn't speak English.  Or Human.  I tried this calling thing over and over, dog barking, then the cat started howling for both of us to stop.  This was turning out to be a comedy of errors.  And I was getting frustrated, thinking Time had stole my joy today.  And all over a lousy piece of technology that doesn't get service half the time. 

I finally decided that I had to do something about the dog's barking or I would never find my phone, so I went into the living room where she was going crazy, and saw that she was barking at my purse.  Stupid dog.  I shushed her, then called the phone again.  You got it.  My purse started vibrating.  The phone was right where you would expect it to be, and the dog knew it, and the cat knew it.  I was apparently the only one who had no clue. 

I could have accused Time again for my own ineptitude. Or I could laugh at myself.  Or the dog and cat.  I had a choice to make.  Would I allow my frustration to steal my joy or would I see myself as someone else might see me, and chuckle?  I decided that although Time is a bandit, there is one thing he cannot steal.  My joy!  And I laughed at the entire escapade.  I am writing this down now, so that Time won't steal my memory of it.

After all, my Father (the one in Heaven, not the one in the nursing home), lives outside of time and circumstance.  He is really the one in charge of all things, even my faulty memory.  If I trust Him, that He is doing good things for me, that His plans for me are as He says they are, how can I let something inanimate, like Time, steal my joy!