I met a man this week, just a little older than me, who had just lost his son to leukemia a week earlier. He was diagnosed with cancer just two short weeks before he died. As I heard the story, I could only think of a lyric from the song If I Die Young …”the sharp knife of a short life.”

Usually, news like this affects me greatly in the moment. I think of how thankful I should be. I run home and kiss my wife and kids. But half an hour later, I’m consumed again by life’s great inconveniences and stressors, and just as quickly as I was startled into awareness, I fall back into the numbness most of us know all too well.

So this time, after hearing the tragic news of what happened to this family, while I was full of appreciation for what God had blessed me with, I decided to try and preserve that perspective, just like my grandma does with jams and green beans. I decided to keep track of everything that bothered me, frustrated me, upset me, distracted me and then go line by line and ask myself the question, “Based on what just happened to this child and his family, does any of this really matter?”

I kept my list for a week. And I’d like to share it with you below. I think the answer to “Does any of this really matter?” will be quite evident.

  • Kids engaging in a tug of war over the Wii and screaming, biting, kicking.
  • Ice cream machine not working at McDonalds.
  • Losing a game in fantasy football.
  • A mix up between my wife and I on whether we were meeting for dinner or if she was picking me up.
  • Mixed review from my boss on a key project that I was leading.
  • My iPhone shutting down and refusing to power back up.
  • Losing power at our house for two hours.
  • Playing poorly during a pickup basketball game.
  • My wife starting The Sing Off on DVR without me.
  • My Alma Mater playing the worst football game in the history of the sport.
  • Not having any bananas in the house.
  • Knocking over a glass if water.
  • Biting into a cold chicken nugget that should have been hot.
  • Failing to locate a specific t-shirt that went with an outfit.
  • Running late for a meeting because I was lost downtown.
  • Kids acting like wild animals at Buffalo Wild Wings.
  • My eyes hurting from straining at the computer.
  • More issues with my iPhone.
  • Cleaning up spilled chocolate milk on our living room carpet.
  • Kids not cooperating at bedtime.
  • Running late for work and school because we overslept.
  • Weeds taking over the flower bed again.
  • Losing an entire blog post because WordPress froze up.
  • Disputing a billing error with DirecTV.

It’s not like any of these (well at least not most of these) created extreme or sustained stress and anger. It’s not like each was a spectacle of an event that loomed large over me like a rain cloud. But life is just like this. Death by a thousand cuts. A relentless series of small inconveniences, minor annoyances, slight distractions that build upon one another and expand until they absolutely crush you under their weight. For most of us, the actual moments of crisis in our lives are few and far between. But the wear and tear of daily life can be just as violent and unforgiving if we allow it to eat at us and break us down.

It was so revealing for me to look back at my list and reflect on the small things that affected my mood over the course of the week. The tiny things that got a reaction, regardless of how small a reaction it was. Just keeping the list has been extremely useful as a tool to monitor and moderate myself. Every time I logged an annoyance on my list, it immediately took me back to that moment when I heard the story about this father and his lost son. And it preserved the perspective for me. It made it abundantly clear that I continue to fight the battle of dwelling on things that expire while neglecting the things that are eternal.

My list also helped remind me of just how blessed I am at this stage of my life. At the moment, my family is mourning the declining health of my wife’s grandmother, but otherwise, it’s hard to find legitimate things to hang our heads about. But we do. Sure, we have internal battles we’re fighting, wounds we’re trying to heal, etc. There are relationships to repair. Struggles to overcome. But God has provided so abundantly for our family. Look at my list. I bet it looks a lot like your list would look. My fantasy football team lost. Boo freakin hoo. I bit into a cold chicken nugget and didn’t have immediate access to a banana. Not exactly a food emergency. My iPhone wouldn’t work right. Oh my. How will I go on?

This all brings back a memory I have from a mission trip I took to Costa Rica when I was in grad school. We were in a poverty-stricken area. There were bars on the windows of every house, which was odd because there was nothing of value within to steal. The kids in the neighborhood were wearing the same clothes just about every day. They were ragged and stained. They had virtually nothing. Except an old, torn and tattered soccer ball that they kicked around. And they couldn’t stop smiling.

I thank those children in Costa Rica, and I thank this poor child in Nashville who lost his short battle with cancer. I thank them for giving me the gift of perspective. For keeping me tuned in to what really matters. For not allowing me to be numb and worn down by the daily grind, not to be screaming, “Calgon, take me a way” and hiding in a bubble bath because my life is so “stressful”.  Even if my family were to endure a crisis – sickness, unemployment, etc. – even if we had to endure a series of them, we would still be blessed beyond measure. It’s that line of thinking that I want to cling to. I know it’s hard to do. Life is crafty and deceptive and relentless. All that means is that I have to meet it with a relentless pursuit for perspective. And ask God to power me in that pursuit.