The Myth of a Good Day

Yesterday wasn’t, on the surface, a good day.

I didn’t sleep well Sunday night, so I woke up Monday already exhausted. Mondays are usually my “recovery day.” After a weekend of music performances and pastoral duties on Sunday—both of which I genuinely love—I need a little time to recharge. I’m not complaining for a second. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to spend my weekends doing things that bring me joy and purpose. But even the things we love can leave us mentally, emotionally, and physically tired.

So I try to keep Mondays fairly light.

Yesterday, I had a handful of errands to run, one of which was getting the oil changed in my car. Now, I’m perfectly capable of changing my own oil. Years ago, I did it all the time. But without a garage and with nothing but a gravel driveway, I’ve decided it’s worth paying a little extra for the convenience of one of those “15-minute oil change” places.

I pulled in, they drained the oil, and I settled in to wait.

And I waited.

And I waited some more.

Finally, someone came out and said, “It’s going to be a while...we don’t have any oil.”

An oil change place...out of oil.

I have to admit, I just stood there for a second trying to process that sentence.

That “15-minute” oil change turned into nearly two hours.

I wasn’t angry, but I was definitely frustrated. I had other things I wanted to accomplish, and suddenly a big chunk of my day had disappeared.

By the time I finally got home, it had started raining. The yard work I’d planned was no longer an option. It felt like another item on the day’s to-do list had been crossed off—not because I’d finished it, but because circumstances had made it impossible.

Then came my evening board meeting.

Now, to be fair, I truly enjoy serving with this organization. The people are wonderful, and the work is meaningful. But after the kind of day I’d had, I honestly wasn’t in the mood for a meeting.

If someone had asked me around lunchtime how my day was going, I probably would have answered, “Not very well.”

But here’s the interesting thing.

As I looked back over the day before going to bed, I realized something.

The oil did get changed.

The board meeting went well. We accomplished everything we had hoped to accomplish.

Even though I didn’t finish everything on my list, I still finished something on my list.

And somehow, that changed my perspective.

We have this idea that a “good day” is one where everything goes according to plan. The weather cooperates. Traffic is light. Every errand is quick. Every conversation is pleasant. Every item gets checked off the list.

But life rarely works that way.

Maybe we’ve set the bar too high.

Maybe a good day isn’t a day without interruptions, inconveniences, or frustrations.

Maybe a good day is simply a day where we keep moving forward despite them.

Maybe a good day is one where we adapt instead of giving up.

Maybe a good day is one where, despite the unexpected detours, we still accomplish something worthwhile.

Sometimes success isn’t measured by how much we got done.

Sometimes it’s measured by the fact that we simply kept going.

If we’re not careful, we’ll let one frustrating moment convince us the entire day was a failure. We’ll remember the two-hour oil change and forget that the car is ready for another few thousand miles. We’ll remember the rain and forget that we still made progress elsewhere. We’ll focus on what didn’t happen instead of what did.

Yesterday wasn’t perfect.

But it was good.

Not because everything went right.

Because, in the end, enough went right.

Maybe that’s a healthier definition of a good day.

And maybe, if we’re willing to look for it, we’ll discover we’ve had more good days than we realized.