This should be a picture of my husband. He makes the best rustic bread. Yes, Ladies, he brings home the bacon, and he cooks the bread.
See all that laundry? Imagine if I had to bend over a tub and wash-board. It could happen one day, but for now my washer and dryer are happy things.
Singing the songs I learned growing up and realizing that the gospel message was being clearly and beautifully presented before I even learned to listen is a happy thing. The seeds God planted in some of those songs are even now breaking ground.
Quiet time with Isaac before the other babies wake up is a happy thing. The questions he asks are happy things. Sometimes trying to get a toddler to learn verses is not a happy thing, but that’s another post.
A plant that was old when Mamaw gave it to me in 1997 and is still alive is a happy thing.
I strongly recommend logging your happy things. It’s encouraged me to notice everywhere what would have otherwise been taken for granted.