Taste and see that the Lord is good. How happy is the person who takes refuge in him!
Psalm 34:8 (CSB)

I’ve been looking for goodness — for that which is sweet, good for the soul, joyful and light; for God’s goodness in everyday, ordinary places. In the middle of a wet and sloppy spring here in Minnesota, it can be hard to remember that possibilities and hope still exist. These days, it seems like the right move to be on the lookout for good.

What I’ve found is that goodness is everywhere — all around, all the time, in all the places.

This week my baby sister will have her second baby and my youngest will turn six months old. My kids are head over heels in love with their baby brother and their newest cousin. We’ve prayed for these babies, waited for their arrivals, celebrated them at socially distanced showers, decorated for them, and waited some more. Bring on the snuggles, the onesies, the pacifiers strewn about, the late-night texts from my sister while we’re both awake and nursing babies, the pure sweetness of a brand new baby. In a world that still holds that delicious newborn baby smell, there is still good.

My youngest daughter starts kindergarten next fall. Hard as I try to clench my fists around the slippery strands of time, it just keeps marching along. It reminds me of when we attended the kindergarten round-up night at our elementary school with our middle daughter, who was absolutely giddy to be there. She was dizzy with the attention of both parents solely focused on her, the prospect of her own desk filled with pencils and folders, a new teacher, new friends, an entire library to browse during elementary school, and the promise of riding a yellow school bus with her big brother. Her joy was overwhelming, and I couldn’t stop grinning big and silly at her happiness and hopefulness. In a world that still holds freshly sharpened pencils and the joy and hope of attending school, there is still good.

This winter, I made soup. When the temperatures dipped below zero, it was time to drag out the stoneware, dutch oven, and slow-cooker. My knife found a rhythm in slicing vegetables, my ears loved the sizzle of browning meat, and my heart gave a leap as I shook seasonings into the pot and suddenly the soup was more than single ingredients standing alone. Adding a fresh loaf of crusty-on-the-outside, squishy-on-the-inside bread and maybe a tossed green salad on the side, and dinner on a cold winter’s night was ready. The satisfaction of cooking is a motivator for me, and the joy it brings me to set a nice table and welcome my family around it is palpable. In a world that holds tables to gather around, family to break bread, and meals to be made, there is still good.

Daily, I dig into my laundry pile. I sort whites and bright colors, add detergent and swish-swash goes the washer. I vacuum up dog hair, fallen from our dog who loves to zoom and barrel dive into our legs. I load the dishwasher, unload the dishwasher, and load it up again, full of dishes on which meals and snacks were served and enjoyed. I pick up tiny toys and stack books on shelves and go to curbside pickup at the store for shampoo and bananas. I check in with family via texts, keep the calendar up to date (paper for me, electronic for my husband), and place books on hold at the library. I plan meals and turn in my hours for work and collapse into bed at the end of the day, thankful for each task ticked off my to-do list and asking for help to finish the leftovers. In a world that holds housekeeping tasks and teems with minutiae-managing, there is still good.

I sit at my computer, typing out words and creating emails, check in on social media and schedule a few posts, attend video meetings and work with our team to integrate editorial and marketing campaigns. I pray over each word published. This work I’m blessed to do is my sweet spot — ministry + business + writing. In a world that holds work that brings deep joy, there is still good.

God, who loves us as much as He did on day one, makes all things work for the good of those who love Him. He thinks of us constantly, more than there are grains of sand. He created the heat of summer, the colors of autumn, the glittering snow of winter, and the newness of life in spring. He went to the grave and back for us, for me and you. In a world overflowing with reminders of God’s love, there is still good.

The walk to school. The sermon at church. The fresh-fallen snow. The width and depth of the ocean. The warmth of the sun. The crisp pages of a new, blank journal. A hot latte. A letter from a friend. A daisy growing out of a sidewalk crack. Your children, friends, and family. A verse in Scripture that speaks straight to your heart. Goodness isn’t hard to find, especially when you’re on the lookout.

May you taste and see the goodness of the Lord, right there in your everyday (which is really anything but ordinary).

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