Time has always been a good teacher.
It teaches you how to walk, and it teaches you how to do algebra, and it even teaches your aching heart how to heal sometimes. It teaches you who you can call when it’s eight o’clock on a Sunday, and you run out of gas. It teaches you the quickest way to the nearest Taco Bell and how to be patient sometimes.
But the greatest thing 20 years ever taught me is the difference between being happy and being full.
Happiness is simple. Happiness can be faked, and you can buy it too. Happiness is people who make you laugh and five new pairs of shoes.
But I don’t want just happy.
I want to wake up in the morning saying thank you, and I want to feel the cold air all the way down to my bones. I want late-night talks and to look at the stars because I have to believe that they were just a big dream too once.
I want so much more than happiness.
I want to feel full. Full of love, and full of faith, and full of that cold air outside my window.
You know those days you wake up saying thank you? And you sing all the way to school even though it’s snowing? And you look at the trees, and you think about your Savior, and life is all okay and pretty and not perfect, but you love it that way anyway?
That’s the kind of happy I want to be today and always.
When I think about that little basement apartment and the hammocks outside their window or the way this fall almost had me convinced that the only thing that should ever fall from the sky is leaves or Park City or that floral couch and late-night talks by the fire..
My heart is happy, & thankful, & full.
It’s more than just “happy.”
And that’s the kind of happy I hope we’ll be today and always.