I hadn't felt well all day yesterday. It was just a cold, but one that left my head and body aching. I chose my clothes carefully, choosing to dress up for church a little more than usual. I was trying to divert attention from my stuffiness, for I find I don't like to appear weak or answer the "Are you alright?" question too often. I'm obviously still learning that in my weakness, He is made strong.
By His grace, I more than made it through the day of worship, I actually worshipped. To worship is to take your eyes off yourself long enough to see Him for who He is and rejoice in His goodness. Maybe it was through the act of worship that I left His house for mine actually feeling better, even though I crawled into my jammies the moment I got home.
It was at the end of the day after we had tucked in the children that I ran the hot bath and let myself sink into it, hoping it would ease the achiness. Someone once told me that you know you are an introvert or extrovert based on how you recharge. If you need to be around people to be renewed, you are definitely an extrovert. If you need to be alone to refuel your soul, you are in introvert. I believe my extreme fondness for a hot bath, candles, and a good book answers the question about which one I am.
I must have been in there close to an hour when I heard it. It was singing. I at first thought my husband must have started a movie, but I could tell after a few moments that it was coming from my daughter's room. Her little voice was soft, and I could only catch a word here or there at first. Eventually, I realized she was singing a children's song from church.
"I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart, down in my heart, down in my heart to stay."
My own heart flooded with joy. What kind of person sings this song to herself upon her bed?
"And I'm so happy, so very happy, I have the love of Jesus in my heart, down in my heart. And I'm so happy, so very happy, I have the love of Jesus in my heart."
A beautiful person. A person who intuitively knows the real way to recharge is not with people or by being alone, but by being in His presence. A person who knows how to worship. A person who is joyful always because she has found the true source of joy.
I awoke to a full day and an even fuller week, still feeling some remnants of a cold.
As I go over my calendar and try to figure out how I will be in all the needed places, ministering to all the right people, at just the right times this week, I feel the familiar tug of the overwhelming. Is there enough of me to cover it all? Is there enough love in me to meet these needs?
I find myself humming a tune.
"And I'm so happy, so very happy, I have the love of Jesus in my heart, down in my heart..."
A few days ago, my little one asked me what contentment was. I answered her quickly, the words thrown over my shoulder as we loaded into the car and hurried on our way to the next have-to-be-there-quickly.
"It means to be happy with what you have and not always wanting something else," I told her. She must have been satisfied with that response because she didn't question me further.
And then I found myself mulling it over for some reason. Days later, and the word still rolls around and around in the back of my mind.
Contentment.
Paul speaks of it in terms of knowing a secret. And it is a secret. A rarely unearthed secret.
"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." (Philippians 4:12)
In every situation.
If the status of my soul does not depend on my siutation, then what does it depend on? My eyes drift upward on the page, searching, digging for the secret.
"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you." (Philippians 4:4-9)
Rejoice. The Lord is near. Present your requests. Think about such things. The God of peace will be with you.
What a treasure to unearth! My contentment does not depend on my situation, it depends on where I center my thoughts. I do not revolve around my circumstances; they revolve around my God. And my God is near.
I love Him for that.
I am grateful that everyday I have a choice. On the days when the whole world turns as it should and there is not a cloud on my horizon, it's easy to choose joy. It's on the days when my life seems to be spinning a little off its axis that it becomes harder. It's in those moments that the choice is most important.
When the car is making a funny noise....I can choose joy.
When my son's teacher calls and wants to talk about his attention span....I can choose joy.
When I spend an hour with a hurting friend and do my best to comfort....I can choose joy.
When I have to have the hard conversation....I can choose joy.
When my night was too short for the long day ahead....I can choose joy.
When the prayer seems to go unanswered....I can choose joy.
And I'm grateful. Grateful that the choice is always before me.
"I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul will make its boast in the Lord; the humble will hear it and rejoice." (Psalm 34:1-2)
And when my mouth begins to confess His praise and make its boast in Him, my world rights itself, for I am the prophet of my own life. When I speak His praise, my heart hears and responds. Self-pity fades, and joy is uncapped.
Thank you, Lord, for the car that is almost paid for, for the way it has blessed our family.
Thank you for what you are developing in my son, for the man he is becoming.
Thank you for the way you love my friend and for the comforting arms of the Holy Spirit.
Thank you that iron sharpens iron and that friendships are stronger for it.
Thank you that in my weakness, you are made strong.
Thank you that you are always, always good.
Choosing joy clears my vision, and I see things for what they really are. Choosing joy lifts my head and transforms my face. It causes me to relax my grip on that which I am trying to control and lift my hand instead to hold His. It makes the world turn as it should as I turn in His arms and we dance the dance of grace.
"O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together. I sought the Lord, and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears. They who look to Him are radiant, and their faces will never be covered in shame." (Psalm 34:3-5)
I visited my eight-year widowed grandmother this weekend. It still shocks me to see her without my grandfather by her side. They were a matched pair, a perfect set, now waiting for the beautiful day they will be reunited. And she limps along with a smile, but with the gait of one who is missing half of herself.
I came home to wave at my one-week widowed neighbor. The grief is still too new, too raw to process. For how do you even decide alone what to eat for breakfast when you've been making decisions together for sixty-four years?
And then yesterday I heard the tale I've listened to so many times, told with tears running down the face and exhaustion in the eyes. The details change a little depending on the teller, but the stories are all pretty much the same. How the marriage started well, but has slowly died and is heading to the place beyond hope of resurrection. How wounds have been inflicted and trust has been broken. How love was taken for granted and priorities were shifted. How they wish it could change, but just don't see how.
And I can't help seeing those two women while I listen. Two women who would give anything to be held once more by the man whose socks once littered their bedroom floor. The same two women who will tonight go to bed alone instead of beside the snore that kept them awake for countless hours. The two women who now have only themselves to cook dinner for.
What would those women say in this moment?
I think they would say it's worth it. Your marriage is worth it. It's worth fighting for. It's worth hurting for. It's worth sacrificing for. It's worth healing.
I think they would say that the best marriage you'll ever have is the one you have right now. I think they would tell you to seek God and not be afraid to change where He tells you to change. I think they would whisper in your ear that a lifetime spent with an imperfect person you have chosen to love is too sweet to throw away and that with Him, all things are possible.
And I think they would tell you not to waste time with unforgiveness, for time is precious, and when it's gone, it's gone.
I think then they would hold you close, bow their heads, and pray for you to have resurrected hope. And they would pray until you could say, "Amen...so be it."
I only need to look at my children to see the creative heart of God. For how else could four people who have the exact same parents and live in the exact same environment be so drastically different? And yet, each one reflects an amazingly complex combination of God's attributes.
My child who is secure in who he is at all times, seemingly unaware of the pressure to perform-- he paints for me a picture of the confidence of God. My son is confident in being himself, like my God is confident being God.
My child who would lay down his life without hesitation to protect someone he loves-- he reads to me the blueprints of God's shepherding heart. My son watches over those put under his care with fierce dilligence, like my God watches over me.
My child who can find something to laugh about, even when his heart is breaking-- he models for me the joy of the Lord. My son knows how to feast at the right table, like the one my God sets before me everyday.
My child who intuitively knows what words to speak to encourage and edify-- she sings me the song from God's own lips. My daughter is a builder of people, like my God who is slow to anger, but abounding in love.
And I have been entrusted with these people? I have the honor of seeing first-hand the heart of God put on display in their lives, to learn what those aspects of my God look like when they are played out in human flesh?
And I know that there are other thing as well, fruit that's not from His garden. And we'll work to get those out, to tend the vine.
But, I refuse to lose sight of the fruit in them that is from His hand.
And I will not miss the chance to accept the seeds He offers to me through the privilege of being their parent. I will not pass up the opportunity to see that same fruit bloom in my life.
Lord, I see You in my children. I see You. And I will keep watch. And I will not let pride keep me from learning from these You have given to me. And we will all grow.
