One Sunday after church, we hosted the whole family for a joint birthday party for our two granddaughters, Madeline and Macy. Being seven and eight, they were in the prime age for birthday excitement—presents, cake, and all the joy that comes with it.
It was a gorgeous day outside, so after the party I asked my daughter if I could take the girls for a walk along the beautiful path near our home. The trail runs beside a creek and a mile of wildflowers, and it’s one of my favorite places to take them.
As we headed out the door, both girls wanted to bring their new dolls—their treasured birthday gifts. Normally I say no to bringing dolls on walks, but I made an exception that day.
From the moment we stepped outside, they were little chatterboxes. Macy piped up first: “Papa, that was the best birthday ever! I love my doll so much. I was praying I’d get a Tiana princess doll. I love her so much, Papa!”
Madeline chimed in next. She had received a similar doll. “Papa, I love my doll too! Since Macy and I have the same one, I’m naming mine Ashley. I love my Ashley Tiana doll, Papa!”
And on and on it went. Renee had picked out great gifts, and though I was getting too much credit, I was just happy they were happy.
Our walk turned into an adventure, as it always does with them. They balanced on ledges like tightrope walkers, burst into spontaneous races—challenging me to catch them—and explored every interesting stick, rock, and flower along the way. We stopped at a park so they could climb, jump, and shout, “Papa, watch me!” about fifty times.
Soon, a small flock of ducks waddled over looking for a handout. Fortunately, I had brought birdseed—experience has taught me to be prepared.
We were having a wonderful time… until suddenly Madeline gasped.
“Papa! My doll is missing a shoe!”
We retraced our steps, looking everywhere, but found nothing. Not long after, Macy let out a cry: “Papa! I lost Tiana’s tiara!”
It took me a moment to realize she meant the tiny crown. So back we went again. As we searched, I was thinking, This is exactly why I have my ‘no dolls on walks’ rule. This one is on you, Tim.
But I stayed patient. We prayed. We looked. And we came up empty.
As we neared home, I asked, “Did you girls have fun on the walk?”
Madeline instantly replied, “No. I lost my dolly’s shoe. I didn’t have fun.”
Macy said nothing but looked up at me with those sad puppy-dog eyes.
So I gently reminded them of everything we had just done—the tightrope walking, the running, the playground, the ducks, the laughter. Madeline paused, then looked up and said, “You’re right, Papa. We did have lots of fun. It’s okay if I lost a shoe.” Macy smiled and nodded in agreement.
What they didn’t know is that earlier that morning, during my devotional time, the Lord had highlighted a familiar verse: “Think on these things…” from Philippians 4:8.
“Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report… if there is anything praiseworthy—think and meditate on these things.”
The Lord had spoken to me about keeping my focus on what is good—not letting small frustrations, irritations, or losses steal my joy.
And here I was, living out the lesson within hours.
A tiny doll shoe and a little crown nearly robbed the girls of the joy of a beautiful birthday, a wonderful walk, and precious memories. But when we shifted our focus back to all the good, their joy returned instantly.
That is exactly how the enemy works.
He is a thief who wants to draw our attention to what’s wrong, so we overlook what God has made right. His strategy is to magnify the negative until it overshadows God’s blessings.
But God’s solution is simple: focus on the good.
Philippians 4:8 (Message Bible) says it beautifully:
“Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.”
Joy grows where gratitude lives.
May we learn, like Madeline and Macy did that day, to think on the good things—and let joy win.
