One evening Cassy and I were at home, about to eat dinner together, which doesn't always get to happen. I opened the silverware drawer to grab a fork and noticed something. Mold. I felt the edge of the drawer and it was wet. I opened the cabinet below, and those walls were wet too. I opened the cabinet under the sink. Wet. I couldn't find a leak anywhere. The sink wasn't running, the dishwasher wasn't running, the washing machine wasn't running.
Then we looked at the floor in the dining room. A faux-hardwood floor, supposedly safe for kitchens. At every seam the material was warping upward. Almost the entire kitchen floor was doing this, and it was spreading into the dining area and the living room.
I'll just say this: the word "dejected" would have been putting it mildly. And I was not the most upbeat or pleasant person to be around that night or into the next day. It really got to me.
Then I sat down with Philippians 1 and read about Paul. Arrested in Jerusalem. Appeared before a series of Roman officials with no resolution. Sent to Rome as a prisoner. Shipwrecked on the way. A viper fastening to his hand. Finally arriving in Rome chained to a Roman soldier. And his summary of all of it was this: "What has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel" (Philippians 1:12).
One thing after another, and Paul calls it advancement.
I had a wet kitchen floor and couldn't manage a good attitude. It was a pretty significant gap in perspective. Romans 8:28 says that for those who love God, all things work together for good. Paul didn't just believe that in theory. He was living it, in chains, on purpose, with joy. I had some catching up to do.