A baby is born to two very deserving and wonderful parents.  Two dear friends get engaged.  Another friend gets a new job. Another friend gets engaged.   Another one gets married.  Another gets a grant to continue their research.  Another makes amends with her parents.  Another one has a baby on the way.  Another one plans a wedding to her long-time fiance.  A father comes home from war to his children and wife.  Another friend gets into med school.

I could very easily look at all these things and be reminded of all the things I don’t have, be bitter for a time, asking why I have not been blessed with these things.  But it’s seeing these things on Facebook, hearing about them firsthand, and rejoicing with these people that makes me remember why I keep getting out of bed every morning.  And on tough days like today when I feel like my world is crashing around me, I remember that I have not been asked to walk this road alone.

We’re a people who thrive on human interaction, communication, love and respect.  We were created that way.  When God saw Adam in the garden alone, he created a partner for him in Eve – a friend and confidant as well as a fellow worker.  We were created to have each other.  That same sentiment applies when things get tough.  When Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, they faced the wrath of God together, and were banished from the Garden together.  But they were also there for each other in the blessed times – walking in the Garden, communing with God.  In the same way, we are to be there for each other in the joy and in the pain.  Too often I think we forget to be there for each other in the good times.  In Romans, we are told to “rejoice with those who rejoice, and mourn with those who mourn.”  I can name so many times when I’ve mourned with those who mourn (most recently with those in the Newtown shootings), but when was the last time I genuinely rejoiced with those who rejoice?  Too often I view those instances as just dim lights in a dark world, when in fact they are bright, shining, lasting lights in this dark world.  Too often I outwardly rejoice, but inwardly ask what’s wrong with me that these things don’t happen to me.

What’s wrong with me?  I’m looking at myself instead of rejoicing with others.  If I took just two minutes to reflect on how blessed these people are, and how blessed I am to be a part of their lives, I might see things a little differently.  Instead of  feeling sorry for myself, I need to see through their eyes the beauty of the world in that moment, and thank God for it.  I need to be thankful for the things I do have, for the people who are in my life, and continue to chug forward (I think I can, I think I can) one day at a time.  When I get out of bed in the morning, I need to again see the beauty of the world God has created, the intricacies of the flowers, the complexity of the human body, the vastness of the stars, the infinite grace that I’ve been given – I need to be reminded through marriages and births and engagements and home comings of my friends that there is hope.

And maybe that’s what I take away from these things, really.  After I get over feeling sorry for myself and wondering what’s wrong with me, I can see hope.  Hope that there is some good in this world, despite the darkness of the days.  Hope that things will work out in the end because God is directing all my steps.  Hope that someday soon, we will see His coming, rejoice in His return.

But for now, I will rejoice with those who rejoice – so this one’s for you Melissa, Roman, Ariel, Kenny, Meredith, Rob, Tyler, Kate, Seth, and all of my friends who are rejoicing in life right now.  Thank you for allowing me to see hope through your stories, and for giving me more reasons every day to rejoice and thank God for His work in your life.