“We consider blessed those who have persevered.”—James 5:11
She was eighty-seven; he was a year older. They’d had their full share of the good in life as well as the troubles: the turbulent passages of marriage, the children who disappointed them, the illnesses. One afternoon she came upon him in their living room, sitting in “his” chair by the fireplace, but there was neither book nor writing board on his lap, as was usual at that hour. He was simply sitting.
“Anything wrong?” she asked, gently.
“No. I was just thinking.”
“Thinking?”
“Yes. About how happy I am.”
My dear old friend Jane mentioned this tiny incident to me long ago. It makes me wonder if we don’t have too great an expectation of happiness.
Maybe we should stop…now, this minute…and look to see if happiness is here.
