Tag: joy

Memories and Tears

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“And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20b (NLT)

Last night we had a dinner at our church. The woman who planned and brought to life the event did so with perfection. The theme was Walking in Love. A sort of Valentine’s dinner which also served as a Pastor’s Appreciation. The food, decorations and time together was amazing. We also had a time of worship, singing older songs of praise. It was a precious time in the Lord. The song transported me back in time.

We lived in Bangor, Maine in Air Force housing. A two story home with a basement. White birch trees lined our yard. It was a lovely home and situation. Our oldest was almost six months old when we moved in.

As with most babies, nights were interrupted by crying and fussing. I don’t know why people say to sleep like a baby as they are usually awake at least three times during the night. Ours was no different.

As winter approached, when she awoke, I would put on my heavy bathrobe and slippers. I would grab her yellow printed quilt from Japan. It was a beautiful gift of a baby futon, not the foam kind we are used to, but a fluffy blanket that would be like a comforter.

I would head down the steps in the cool night and head to my bentwood rocker. Positioning ourselves and making certain both of us were fully covered and cozy. I would draw her close to me and begin to sing. We had a string of songs, some lullabies and a lot of worship songs. I would go through the line up of songs and then sing one over and over. There were no cell phones then to hold and keep me distracted. Only the darkness, my baby and my singing.

The song would quiet her and quiet me. It would calm my frazzled young mother’s angst. My focus would shift from grumpiness of being awake, again to the quiet joyful peace of sitting in a darkened living room with my baby.The wind could be howling outside, driving snow across our yard and building up on our back door, but, I was wrapped in the peace of quiet with a snuggly baby in my arms.

I haven’t remembered those nights in years. Last night we sang the song I would sing over and over. The song started and I sang, enjoying the song itself. As we repeated the chorus my throat stopped up, tears fell down my cheeks and I was once more sitting in the dark room holding my first born.

Our Lord is precious and kind. He recalls to us the times when, unbeknownst to me, He was beside me. Standing watch along with me as His beautiful creation of a child struggled with staying asleep. The impact that, in hindsight, I vividly recalled those seemingly endless nights, thinking all these years that I was alone, and I saw that He walked the floor with me and rocked with me also.

I am so grateful to have had that experience last night, in a crowded room and the Lord gave me this sweet, joyful, memory just for me. He knows each of us personally and He meets us where we are.

I love you, Lord
And I lift my voice
To worship you
Oh my soul rejoice
Take joy, my king
In what you hear
May it be a sweet sweet sound
In your ear

I love you, Lord
And I lift my voice
To worship you
Oh my soul rejoice
Take joy, my king
In what you hear
May it be a sweet sweet sound
In your ear

Revive Me, Oh Lord

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“For I will pour out water to quench your thirst and to irrigate your parched fields.
And I will pour out my Spirit on your descendants, and my blessing on your children.” Isaiah 44:3 (NLT)

Revival has come to us. In a college that many did not know about. Most likely a quiet campus, an ordinary campus. Then, the extraordinary happens. The Lord visits and stays. Hearts are changed. Lives are changed.

The video clips bring me to tears. I yearn to be in the middle of this. To worship purely and wholly.

I have long prayed for revival to hit this nation. I look for it. I wait expectantly. May the Holy Spirit flow through this nation, revealing the power of our Living God.

“Then, after doing all those things, I will pour out my Spirit upon all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy.
    Your old men will dream dreams, and your young men will see visions.” Joel 2:28 (NLT)

“Create in me a clean heart, O God.  Renew a loyal spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10 (NLT)

Joy in Listening

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“As cold water to a weary soul, So is good news from a far country.” Proverbs 25:25 (NKJV)

There is a friend of mine who lives on the other side of our country. We have been friends for years. I worked with her and her husband for many years, which deepened our friendship.

We have walked with each other through many difficult and dark times. We have laughed much together. We have wept with one another. We have screamed on roller coasters together. We have lived life together. She is family to me.

Next week Dale is teaching at our Wednesday night service. He has chosen his topic and wanted to be refreshed in some teachings from this friend of ours.

This morning they talked with each other. The phone was on speaker so he could take some notes and have his hands free to make references where needed. I sat in the living room listening to their conversation.

At first I was online scrolling through notifications. A normal part of my day. Soon, my attention went elsewhere. The voice on the other end of the line was drawing me in. The voice I know so well. As she spoke I was transported in memory back to a place where she taught and I listened.

The rhythm of her voice, the enthusiasm of the topic she was talking about. The excited exchange between Dale and her. How often did they do this and her husband and I just sat, drinking tea or coffee and smiled at each other, knowing they were sharing their hearts. The two of them both called to the same type of ministry.

Today, as I listened I was filled with joy and thankfulness. From this woman the Lord has taught me much. The gift she is from our Lord is a blessing too great to describe. The spontaneous joy we find when we are together.

Today my heart was filled to overflowing with the sound of a voice.

A Smile Today

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“Good news from far away is like cold water to the thirsty.” Proverbs 25:25 (NLT)

Today I received a couple of cards from a friend. One was to make me laugh and one was to talk about our friendship. This friend has been a lifelong friend. We bonded over a science project on snails in the fourth grade.

Her family became like my family and her Mother was like a bonus mother to me.

The card about friendship blessed me, as I feel the same about her.

The card to make me laugh showed a picture of a wheat tare on the front. It said, “When did our wild oats” and inside it said, “Become shredded wheat?” This struck me as hilarious and as I walked to the house from the mailbox I laughed loudly.

I think what really brought the point of the card home was the fact that as I came back to the house, I was making oatmeal for Dale and I.

Those wild oats are not only shredded wheat, they also have become daily oatmeal. Time passes so quickly. The years seem to become the flashes of cities and towns while looking out the window of a speeding train. It can become dizzying, but, oh! the fun of traveling quickly.

Today my heart feels joy. Joy for the journey, joy for this life. May you also have joy for your day today.

Joy

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I have a friend named Joy. To me, she is the living example of what joy is. She carries with her a peaceful and strong faith and hope. She has many challenges in her life and yet, when talking with her, I come away with a feeling of joy. I have often said her mother named her correctly.

Yesterday while I was walking I had the phrase, “Joy comes in the mourning”come to me. I saw the word mourning and thought, well, I spelled that wrong. I was impressed to think about that statement.

I immediately thought of the last part of Psalm 30:5 which says, “Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning” (NLT)

This morning, this was in my devotions. I hadn’t planned it that way, it was just what came up. Once more, the phrase, “Joy comes in the mourning” came to mind.

As I have pondered this the past 36 hours, these are the thoughts I have stumbled on. Joy, true joy is a result of difficult situations.

There are several seasons of mourning in our life. Some, in retrospect may seem tiny, but while going through them, they are anything but small.

We mourn broken relationships. Losing a friend is heartbreaking. A part of you that trusted and confided in, is gone. Gone also are those things shared with someone you trusted. Things spoken in confidence only to have that confidence shattered.

A death of a parent. We mourn what we have had taken from us. A part of who you are is lost. There is a void there that cannot be refilled. It is like walking with a gaping hole in your being.

A fractured marriage. The intense isolation that comes with this. The questions that plague you.

Loss of a spouse. I have no idea how this is. I do know that I have witnessed through friends this unbearable ordeal. It is worse than loss of a parent, this is truly losing part of your heart.

But, I believe, through the midst of all of this, joy comes. It may not be the laughing, jovial type of joy, but it is joy nonetheless.

A synonym for joy is comfort. In times of mourning, there is a time where comfort resides. It’s not that overwhelming feeling of laughter, but there is a comfort, an acknowledgement of life being better, richer because of that friend, that spouse, your parents.

These people who are lost are truly gifts in your life. They have given joy, love, truth. We learn vital lessons from them. Our lives are changed because of them.

I am still trying to think through the phrase of joy coming in mourning. I had to get them down so I can remember.

Joy

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“20 “And he arose and came to his father. But when he was still a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him.” Luke 15:20 (NKJV)

Today this scripture came to mind. My youngest and her family are on their way up now. It has been too long since we have all been together.

Although I know that this daughter is not a prodigal, what struck me was the joy the father felt seeing his son come home.

I had never thought of this scripture from the parent’s point of view. I have only seen it as the forgiveness the son received.

This morning when we heard that today was the day they would be here (colds and yuckiness has kept them away), I immediately was excited. I looked around thinking of what I wanted to do first, bake? make soup? clean up? My mind raced in anticipation.

So, now they are only a couple hours away, hopefully not in traffic. I will need to velcro myself down so that I don’t stand at the window for the next few hours.

How excited that father in the scripture must have been. He had not seen his son in years and knew the life he was leading was not right. He ran to greet his son. I do know that feeling. When my girls arrive I am almost at the door of their vehicle before the engine stops.

I will be that way again later this afternoon. Anxious to throw my arms around my Little Man. God is so good. Today is really a Merry Christmas day for me.

A Winter’s Day

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As I opened the curtains today the Simon and Garfunkel song “I am a Rock” sprang to mind. Although we had no snow, the day was dark and a bit dreary. I could feel the chill of the outdoors through the windows and it was hard to ignore the bed calling me back to it for more sleep.

Winter days are like that. Those are jammie days, staying in your p.j.’s and not real clothes. So tempting. But, I resisted and got my day going, completely dressed including shoes.

The sound of rain is still falling on the roof. The bare trees look forlorn. It is winter. Not the fun time with snow and ice, but winter. The time of year when you know that the world in your yard is dormant. The grass won’t need attention until the spring. There are still leaves to be swept off the porch and the stairs, but, today, they also can wait.

The fireplace filled the house with warmth this morning as I read and got breakfast going. It’s been a slow day. A day that this retired person thinks there is no activity anywhere. Yet, just down the street people are driving to and fro shopping, or appointments, or work. Such is the quiet of being done with work.

I truly do love these days. I always have. There is something comforting in the dark days of late fall and early winter. They somehow invite me into the quiet, and it is there that I am refreshed.

I read the lyrics to the song that has floated in my mind. They are actually quite depressing, yet, I know for years they were my personal anthem. A part of me can easily revert back to that time. Being alone, and shutting myself away. Yet, that is not where I am now. The cold, dank winter days are a respite, but not my abode.

“The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.” John 10:10 (NKJV)

As the song goes, “A rock feels no pain. And an island never dies” is, of course correct, but with that pain comes joy and laughter and love, these things that are perfect gifts from God.

Peaceful

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“I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.” John 14:27 (NLT)

The past few weeks I have had several conversations with people going through difficult times.

Each person is experiencing a time that would like to rob you of any joy, peace or knowledge of the Lord.

I have tried to be a good listener and to respond how I think the Lord would have me respond. What I have concluded is this world is not pleasant. Yes, the scenery and artistry of God is present everywhere in this world, but, living here is filled with troubles.

Each of us experience things that can tear our heart out. Sickness, cancer, death, isolation and loneliness can drive us to the brink of wondering where our God is and if he is actually listening or caring about us personally.

It is easy to look at the situation looming towards us. It is easy to say that there is no possible way that God could be in the midst of things. It can be easy to look at the world and what it holds and be disillusioned. Personally, I have done this. I have lost joy before, I have questioned and yelled at God.

What I learned is that God is big enough to yell at Him. He can take it. He, like the loving Father He is will allow us to scream, holler, yell, roll on the floor, pitch a fit, kick and fuss. He allows our tantrums, and again, like the good Father He is, He will gently pick us up and hold us.

The situations may not have passed, but He is watching over us. It could be days, weeks, months or years later and we look back and marvel that the Lord was in the midst of that season. Ever faithful, ever watching, ever caring.

Today was a day that would have liked to rob several people of their peace, it was an unsettling day. But, God. He was in the middle of it all. He was not distant. He was not taking a nap. He was not ignoring cries from hearts. He was in the center, watching and supporting.

This morning a young man in our church ran through the gates of Heaven and into the arms of a waiting Savior. As he rushed into Heaven, I know he was greeted by our Lord, His arms wide open and waiting to hug this man. He met him and greeted him with a “Welcome Home Son, I have been anxiously waiting for you.”

“Do not sorrow, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” Nehemiah 8:10b (NKJV)

This scripture has run through my mind this afternoon. The joy of our Lord is my strength. I do have the joy of the Lord. He gives it in abundance.

We may want to falter, and hesitate, and give up. Between the peace of God so freely given, and the joy of the Lord, which is our strength, there is nothing we cannot conquer. So, I will continue to have difficult conversations with friends. I will continue to pray how to respond. Most importantly, I will pray for them.

If Only My Legs would Move

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I love music. I love dancing, but, my feet do not move and so I stand stationary with a slight sway and sporadic hip movements. I have always longed to dance freely and I think, as a child, I did.

Somewhere a switch turned off and since then, I sway.

Each St. Patrick’s day there is a yearning deep within me to do a jig. I can feel it rising up and yet, nothing. I sway, longing to move and dreaming of someday being in Ireland. I have thought if I could get to Ireland and get in touch with my heritage, I could jig.

There was a year in our family where we celebrated many weddings. My sisters danced and had a wonderful time. I watched, aching to join in. But, my legs would not move.

In worship, I see people moving, dancing before our Lord. Again, I sway. I have actually prayed that the Lord would loosen my feet, loosen my legs and let the joy I have deep inside overflow into dance. It must be one of those prayers whose answer is Wait.

So, wait I do. I imagine when I get to heaven I will hit the gates dancing. I will be filled with such joy that I will not stop dancing. I will do a jig with my parents, I will do a dance with my child who is there, I will joyfully bounce with David, and do jazz hands with the apostles. With Jesus, I will do a waltz, allowing Him to lead me sweep across heaven, swirling and twirling. I wonder if Joshua would do a tango?

We took a dance course. It was fun, but like higher math, it did not sink into me. So, I remain a swayer yearning to explode joyfully before the Lord. Until then, I will wait and ponder on this scripture.

“Praise his name with dancing, accompanied by tambourine and harp. 4 For the Lord delights in his people;  he crowns the humble with victory.” Psalm 149:3-4 (NLT)

My Baby

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Almost 40 years ago today, my youngest was born. Dale was out to sea, and I had just moved our belongings into our newly purchased home with friends helping. We still had baby things and nursery things in our garage, not set up or ready to go.

Again, my brother from another mother and his wife were at the ready to keep me going. She was with me for labor and the birth of our youngest and he put the crib and changing table together.

Our youngest was a rainbow baby, a baby born after the loss of another. She was and still is a rainbow in our lives. She taught me joy, a deep abiding joy. She taught me to laugh harder than I had ever known. Her quiet spirit is evident in all she does.

I write about her birthday almost every year. It is a time of joy for Dale and I. We are blessed by this gift from our Lord. Each year I also struggle with how to describe this woman. She is multi-faceted in her abilities and her giftings, yet each time I fail to totally portray her.

Our children are precious gifts to us. Each one teaches you different things. Each one grows into an unique adult. I stand back often and think of my daughters. The women they are and how they got to be where they are. On birthdays especially, I look at their lives and remember the impact they made on me, how they shaped me into the person I am today.

So, happiest of birthdays my dear Rachel. You are a gift and a joy. I hope you are spoiled with gifts and love as you have spoiled me with the gift of you. Thank you for being you. Love you.