Recently I have been reflecting on the idea of small beginnings. Small beginnings and baby steps along unknown paths toward the things that for me provide a spark of joy but can also carry uncertainty. If I am honest with myself, this likely has almost always been the case for me where my writing journey is concerned. Ideas come into my mind and immediately I want to get them moving. The idea comes and with mostly spontaneity and little else, like any kind of plan, I begin. I want immediate success. To see my ambiguous idea that has no foundation whatsoever thrive upon its spontaneous launching. But that has rarely worked when it comes to creating anything with staying power.
And so the idea of small beginnings and baby steps has been whispering in my mind more and more these days. My husband and I have discussed that I am definitely an idea person. A visionary in many aspects because I see ideas in my mind that are already fully formed, successful, effective. And, yet, I don’t tend to know how to get from the picture in my head to the actual thing existing in the world. Still, this never truly stops me from the process of launching these ideas into the world. My oldest daughter considers me an eternal optimist, always expecting things to work out splendidly.
She’s not wrong.
That’s not to say I don’t experience disappointment or frustration when an idea doesn’t take root. But part of my optimism is steeped in holding fast to small sparks of joy. It’s taking deep breaths of hope and trusting that God wants amazing things for me and for my family, including our teenagers. It’s pausing long enough to consider the goodness I’ve already experienced up to this point and trusting that there is still goodness available to me because God is good and generous and He shows up in my small moments in meaningful ways. Ways that encourage me to seek the small sparks of joy around me.
I see this in my girls, even if they don’t see it just yet—their reflections of joy sparked in sweet, ordinary moments. What they don’t realize just yet is that this ability to experience joy in such seemingly insignificant instances, this is what builds the foundations of hope and the ability to grow ever more resilient. For me, witnessing their small doses of delight was a source of my own sense of gratitude and happiness. For example, today one of my 17 year old’s favorite singers released a new song and this was something my teen and I had talked about the other day, anticipating its release. Today, my girl listened to that song on repeat, encouraged me to listen to it if I hadn’t already, and emanated pure joy in both her listening experience and in sharing the song with me. Her enthusiasm was contagious and I loved her excitement and the sparkle in her eyes as she announced how awesome she thought the song was.
In my youngest teen, her simple spark of joy came in the anticipation of taking a long solo car ride with me after we dropped her sister and dad off for my husband’s band rehearsal. While my 17 year old anticipated watching her dad’s band rehearsal, my 15 year old eagerly anticipated the opportunity to float along in the back seat of the car with her favorite Spotify playlist and her own dreamy thoughts.
Appreciating the little things, the small beginnings, the journey, these are the building blocks of a joy-filled and grateful life. Experiencing big, larger-than-life moments is fantastic, but we all know those kinds of events are few and far between. Of course we should embrace them and even seek them out, making plans that include such momentous occasions. However, it is in the willingness to immerse ourselves in the small and seemingly ordinary joys where we discover the hope and goodness that sustain us from one day to the next. It is this approach to living our lives that reminds me that new ideas and the visions I want to launch do not need to succeed immediately. I love that watching my girls helps me keep that perspective of hope and anticipation for what comes next.