The Parable of the Granite Countertops

We've been married nearly 17 years. We have lived in 5 states and 8 houses.  We've had 1 beta fish, 1 leopard gecko, 1 garter snake with 30 little garter snake babies, 2 kittens and 5 kids. No granite countertops.
I find myself taking my two little kids down to my favorite granite warehouse. They sell remnants. I stroll down the remnant isles dreaming of what could be mine. I know how many square feet we need. I've measured. I've made my husband measure. I've priced it out. Over and over again. After all my hard work and research, we still have the dark, outdated brown and black swirling laminate countertops. There is absolutely nothing wrong with them. No reason to rip them out. They are sturdy, durable and clean up fairly well. But everyone else has granite. Well, actually, I'm starting to worry that I completely missed the granite era. All of my friends are now ripping out their granite and replacing it with an even durable quartz. Seriously? That could be even farther away in my future. Maybe never.
I think about granite as I fade to sleep. I dream of the light, beautiful stone sprawling across my long, open kitchen. It would look amazing. I would be so happy. So blissfully happy...for a moment.
If only granite could buy happiness, we would all be set.
I know too much. I've lived too long.  No amount of granite can make me happy. It is a fact of life. As soon as I install my dream granite, my wants will immediately go to something else.  My happiness will still be unfulfilled even after my prince in shining granite comes with his beautiful granite truck. It makes me so sad. Yet, unequivocally happy.
It's all too simple.  It requires my time, not my credit card. It requires me to find joy in the present, instead of dreaming of the future.
Don't get me wrong, if the chance arrives, I will be driving speedily down to my granite warehouse and picking out the most beautiful granite remnant you have ever seen. And I will be happy. For a moment. But I will know in my heart, that it is temporary. Just like all worldly possessions. The happiness will fade and be replaced with another want.
Luckily for all of us, true happiness, or joy, is not bought. It is earned.  Joy is a smile running toward my car in a school parking lot, a jump hug in my arms  and a soccer game in the backyard.  It is my 15 year old getting behind the steering wheel for the first time and my 5 year old being snack boy at preschool.  Joy is fifteen hugs and kisses at bedtime, and a laughing hysteria as I chase the kids around the house.  It is watching their smile light up a room when they find my random love notes in random places.
It takes my most selfish resource, my time.
Luckily, joy is something we can all afford. God gave us everything we need to find it.
He just forgot the granite countertops at the Ford house.
I’m starting to think it was on purpose.