There’s a few of us out there that can say we are over scheduled – far too many clubs, board meetings, fundraisers and social engagements.
This past month was no exception for me. I go on and on about how busy I am but make no real plans to unload any of my many commitments. Now I sit here dead tired from running around the county fair all weekend chasing 4-H kids and carrying turkeys. I came home each night covered in a fine layer of dirt, dried Bermuda grass in my ears and feet so sore I limped in the door.
I left for the fair Friday morning swearing it would be my last. “I just can’t keep doing all of this stuff,” I said as Zach smirked. My resolve was steadfast that Friday. I was going to give it up. Check it off my list. They would just have to find another leader and I would finally have all that precious free time I was needing.
Then Saturday came and blew that plan out of the water. I LOVE THE FAIR. More specifically I love 4-H poultry shows and little kids carrying animals twice their size in front of crowds without a care in the world. I love their smiles when they win and their tough hearts when they don’t. I love fair cheeseburgers and the sound of milk cows bellowing in the barn hungry, because the kid that was supposed to feed them is riding the ferris wheel instead.
I love the fair because of all the families who are there camped out in the field sharing meals and drinks and stories awaiting that buckle or ribbon or that big auction pay day. All of them talking about how they’re all going to do it again next year.
On that Saturday I walked out of the show ring with such joy in my heart. I returned to the tent with the kids who had just competed and watched as they tied their ribbons on their pens and cages.
Zach knew I wouldn’t give it up. When something gives you joy, do it even if it covers you in a fine layer of dirt and fills your ears with bermuda grass. Do it even if it makes you dead tired and gives you sore feet. Do it because joy is hard to come by and lasts longer than any free time that you think you may need. Kids and chickens and 4-H fair cheeseburgers are about all I need. All of my other joyless commitments, you’re on notice.