Embracing good times

Don’t take the good times for granted.

That’s the name of a song I heard for the first time this week. I listened to it over and over, letting the words sink into my soul.

It was a week of slowing down, and the music seemed a bit sweeter. As my planner turns over to September, I like to embrace the final days of summer and bask in the wonder and awe of what the changing seasons look like. I love everything about the days of autumn. I might have decorated my house as I looked forward to everything pumpkin except pumpkin spice lattes … yuck.

Photo by Janet Hart Leonard

I sat on my front porch, watching a softball game across the street, and pondered how the good times look different as I’ve gotten older. If anyone saw me and wondered whether I was wearing my pajamas, the answer is yes. I’m all about comfort these days. I’d have basked in the moment longer as I sipped my morning coffee, but giant mosquitoes were feasting on my skin. One of the questions I want to ask God when I get to Heaven is why he created mosquitoes. Do you ever wonder why something was created? Maybe skunks? My mind goes to the strangest places as I ponder.

For the past five days, I’ve been sick with a virus that left me without a voice. Yes, Janet Leonard cannot talk. When I try to speak, my husband says I sound like Minnie Mouse or a dog caught in a briar patch. Ordering a Medicine Ball at Starbucks was challenging. The steamed lemonade, along with the citrus mint tea and honey, is a balm for my sickly throat. The nurse practitioner at Med Check said I have to wait it out for seven to 10 days. Ugh. I was hoping for a magic pill to make me not so ill.

Before I digress downward into the poor me tunnel, I’ll stop whining and get on with writing about not taking the good times for granted.

I no longer wait for things to get better or easier to appreciate what a moment holds. I know this too shall pass, but I hope it’s not like a kidney stone. I’ve never had a kidney stone, but they say it’s worse than childbirth. I had two kids without an epidural. They say you forget the pain. They are wrong.

I’m always looking for glimpses of hope and glimmers of happiness. I love watching lightning bugs light up. I wonder what God was thinking when he created an insect with a butt that lights up?

I believe the small moments that bring me joy are a big deal. I’m blessed with a husband who understands. I believe true love is found in the simple acts of kindness. Along with this virus has come a lack of anything sounding good to eat. About 7:00 on Tuesday, I told Chuck I wanted onion rings. He insisted on driving to Culver’s to get them for me. We split an order. I’ll never take things like this for granted.

Chuck golfed on Wednesday and shot the same number as the heat index. It’s not a good number for a man who likes to shoot his age. He says getting older makes it easier. He shot 88 this week, missing his age by one stroke. He truly is a legend at Stony Creek Golf Course. Golf makes him happy even when the heat index is in the degrees of misery.

While I was sick this week, I caught up on some reading. Lysa TerKerust’s new book, Making Peace With What I Can’t Control, gets a “You need to read this!” rating. I’m 50 pages into Melissa Radke’s Chicken-Fried Women. I can relate to being raised by a southern woman. Stay tuned for my rating. I’m also leisurely reading Ruth Cho Simons’ book This Moment Matters: 100 Ways to Cultivate a Grace-Laced Life. Put this on your Christmas list to give to all your friends who enjoy a pretty book that cultivates numbering your days with awe and wonder.

I won’t be taking these days for granted. I’m making the most of my 70s and hopefully my 80s and beyond.

I’m reminded of the scripture in Psalm 90:12: “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

I’m working on that heart of wisdom.

Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). She is the recipient of the Reporter’s Spring 2025 Ink-Stained Wretch award. Visit janethartleonard.com. You can purchase her book “When the Hart Speaks” at amazon.com/dp/B0B1C7QKF6.