"Joy to the world, the Lord is come..."
This song rings throughout my home, sung at the top of six-year-old boy lungs. The words aren't all correct, but the spirit and meaning is there. Christmas is about Hope. Christmas is the time that we reflect on this Hope. We look inward and feel the Joy that comes from Hope. What is our Hope? Our Hope lies in the Christ-child, Who came so that we could be rescued from the joyless, hopeless existence that is life without Him. He alone is our Hope, our Joy.
This year has been a deeper reflection of the Meaning of Christmas for me. What is Christmas really about? Our family decided this was the year that we would discontinue spending large amounts of money on gifting the extended family. We chose a local family whom we will buy gifts for and bless them, as they are having a difficult and challenging time. There will still be some gifts for our family to open, but making this decision felt liberating, freeing from commercial Christmas bondage. While we will still "buy" things for this family, it is not about how much or who has more.
I'm also turning 40 tomorrow. Of course, it comes with reflection about meaning and purpose. I am in a place that I could never imagined at the tender age of 20, when I dreamed of the future, and family, and my goals and dreams. My life has been challenging and difficult and rich and exciting. I have followed paths that were clearly led by Jesus, and other paths that were clearly led by my own selfish will. But God is there and He is faithful, even when I am not faithful, even when I take my own path. And He sometimes gently and sometimes fiercely guides me back to following Him...my Provider, my Husband, my Lifegiver, my Creator.
As you reflect on Christmas, seek out the Meaning - Jesus. Look past the plastic Santa and the pretty lights. Put down the beautiful packages and listen to what He is saying. Find the Joy He has for you in the simple things...bless others. Hug your children. Give to the Salvation Army. Bring a coat to the donation center. Notice those whose eyes are downcast from the pain. Find Joy.
And sing with the six-year-old boy at the top of your lungs...."Joy to the world, the Lord is come....."
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Renewal Wanted
As I journey through this season in my life, I often find myself exhausted. It's a pure, unadulterated tiredness that seems to settle down in my bones, where the very marrow seems to cry out for rest. With what I lovingly call three jobs, my "real" job is in the Dean's office at a small, liberal arts college in Minneapolis. Then there's the fun job of hosting our Chinese students, where I get to pour into them each evening as we bake, cook, talk, and just hang out and we learn from each other. And finally, the most important, long-term job I will ever hold as the mother to Martin, my five-year-old son, the love of my life and heart.
But, as you can imagine, sometimes these roles begin to control me and the schedule becomes like that reality show where you try to bounce between the balls without falling into the green, muddy water below. And the exhaustion begins to seep down deep, to the core of my being, and I start slipping down the slippery slope where joy cannot possibly live.
My initial thought is to run, run away. Run where the schedule can't find me. Where the conflicts don't happen. Where I find total fulfillment and purpose in my "real" job. I want to hide.
And then I realize the truth of our friend, Henri Nouwen's, wisdom:
"In our much-doing we lose perspective, lose our energy, and more importantly, lose our creativity and sense of humor. We thus begin to carry the world on our shoulders and soon become overwhelmed or disillusioned. But to simply withdraw does not provide the way forward, for we then take our hurt or tired self with us. Rather, the movement to solitude is to find a renewed self, and from the center of being loved and nourished we can again enter our world with purposeful engagement and joyful detachment."
-Henri Nouwen, Dare to Journey
This is what I long to find - a renewed self, where my hurt and pain don't follow me. I have tried to get away before with the intention of running away, and realized that I was still there. Pain and all. The relief of rest was only skin-deep, without the renewing of my spirit.
What is the key to renewal? I'm on my journey to find it. To find the purposeful engagement. To live out joy.
But, as you can imagine, sometimes these roles begin to control me and the schedule becomes like that reality show where you try to bounce between the balls without falling into the green, muddy water below. And the exhaustion begins to seep down deep, to the core of my being, and I start slipping down the slippery slope where joy cannot possibly live.
My initial thought is to run, run away. Run where the schedule can't find me. Where the conflicts don't happen. Where I find total fulfillment and purpose in my "real" job. I want to hide.
And then I realize the truth of our friend, Henri Nouwen's, wisdom:
"In our much-doing we lose perspective, lose our energy, and more importantly, lose our creativity and sense of humor. We thus begin to carry the world on our shoulders and soon become overwhelmed or disillusioned. But to simply withdraw does not provide the way forward, for we then take our hurt or tired self with us. Rather, the movement to solitude is to find a renewed self, and from the center of being loved and nourished we can again enter our world with purposeful engagement and joyful detachment."
-Henri Nouwen, Dare to Journey
This is what I long to find - a renewed self, where my hurt and pain don't follow me. I have tried to get away before with the intention of running away, and realized that I was still there. Pain and all. The relief of rest was only skin-deep, without the renewing of my spirit.
What is the key to renewal? I'm on my journey to find it. To find the purposeful engagement. To live out joy.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Walking through the Mud
Walking through pain and loss in life is something akin to walking in mud up to your knees. The mud around you makes your legs feel heavy, it is difficult to walk. You grow weary in the weight that seems to pull you down. Then, of course, it begins to rain. A drop here and a drop there. Some days it is a deluge. You're walking along in mud up to your knees and being pounded by the rain. You can barely see or move. You can't see anything around you, you feel completely alone, cold, and weary beyond words.
But ahead you can see relief: the sun is shining. There's a rainbow and dry ground. It's off in the distance but you can see it. But, still, you have to trudge through the mud in the rain to get there.
In the middle of the pain, you are tired and your spirit is heavy. You still have the day-to-day conflicts with friends and family to work through. You still have to care for your children and make sure they have what they need. Your job doesn't go away, and you're trying to keep your game face on as you get through each day. Your friends and family may scatter as they see you struggling, and they don't know what to do or say.
But even in the midst of all that, you are not alone. The sun is behind the rain clouds. There is firm ground under the mud. You may have to trudge through it but you don't have to do it alone. Jesus said:
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30, NLT)
Look beside you. He is holding an umbrella. Your face is still wet from the rain and your tears, but He dries them off. The mud is still there, but He has His arm around you. You are not alone, you were never alone.
God has not promised that He will rescue us from the "mud" of life, but He is always with us. This is my reminder today as the rain falls. I'm tired but He is promising me "rest." He is teaching me to rely on Him.
But ahead you can see relief: the sun is shining. There's a rainbow and dry ground. It's off in the distance but you can see it. But, still, you have to trudge through the mud in the rain to get there.
In the middle of the pain, you are tired and your spirit is heavy. You still have the day-to-day conflicts with friends and family to work through. You still have to care for your children and make sure they have what they need. Your job doesn't go away, and you're trying to keep your game face on as you get through each day. Your friends and family may scatter as they see you struggling, and they don't know what to do or say.
But even in the midst of all that, you are not alone. The sun is behind the rain clouds. There is firm ground under the mud. You may have to trudge through it but you don't have to do it alone. Jesus said:
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30, NLT)
Look beside you. He is holding an umbrella. Your face is still wet from the rain and your tears, but He dries them off. The mud is still there, but He has His arm around you. You are not alone, you were never alone.
God has not promised that He will rescue us from the "mud" of life, but He is always with us. This is my reminder today as the rain falls. I'm tired but He is promising me "rest." He is teaching me to rely on Him.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Psalm 23: Rest and Simplicity in God
I used to think of Psalm 23 as the Psalm you read at a funeral. It was an overused scripture people pulled out to read to a grieving widower who had been married to his wife of fifty years. Recently, however, God has been speaking to me through this scripture, and revealing a deeper meaning...He has been speaking to me about Rest and Simplicity. As I journey through healing, He calls me to "rest" - in my favorite places, no less, beside a stream in a meadow.
I see a lesson for how to walk through pain: Count your blessings, Rest in His goodness, Lean on His strength, Count your blessings AGAIN, Rest in his Goodness AGAIN. Repeat.
Join me in reflecting on Psalm 23.
1 The Lord is my shepherd;
I have all that I need.
Reflect on what God has given you.
2 He lets me rest in green meadows;
he leads me beside peaceful streams.
Reflect on ways that you can “rest” in God.
3 He renews my strength.
He guides me along right paths,
bringing honor to his name.
4 Even when I walk
through the darkest valley,
I will not be afraid,
for you are close beside me.
Your rod and your staff
protect and comfort me.
Reflect on ways that God has walked with you through dark times and given you strength.
5 You prepare a feast for me
in the presence of my enemies.
You honor me by anointing my head with oil.
My cup overflows with blessings.
Reflect on the blessings and anointing God has given you lately.
6 Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me
all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the Lord
forever.
Reflect on God’s goodness as He “pursues” you. What does that mean to you?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Restore, Rebuild, Renew
I have had this blog for a few years, but have been poor at updating it, unless there's a major chang in our life status. I decided that it needed an Extreme Makeover - hence the new name: "Joy in the Journey." That name has been rolling around in my head, not because I have somehow found the answer to living out "joy" in my life, but because I aspire to living out joy and delight even through difficult circumstances and pain.
Each year, I look ahead and claim the year for something. Last year was my year of "new beginnings." 2009 was a year of "change." (Why anyone would ever choose that is beyond me...) But this year is my year of "healing" - and to attain that I claim this statement: "When you are who God wants you to be, you can restore, rebuild, and renew." (see Isaiah 58:12)
2010 was a difficult year. This was the year that my hopes of happily ever after were dashed by the reality of life. What I had held on to for five years was simply not meant to be. And while the relationship had been destined for failure due to time, space, and commitment issues, I had carried it around like a sacred chest, even as it grew so heavy that I had to drag it around me. I prayed and cried and begged God to save it, but in the end, it was not my decision and God released me from dragging around the heavy burden. My marriage ended but it was like a pain of watching your loved one suffer on the machines that breathed life, and while you knew that death was the ultimate release and relief, the final breath was like shockwaves through your soul.
If you have ever experienced death or divorce, you know the grieving process that begins. I have experienced death, as a child my father died when I was 4.5 years old. I have now experienced death of my dreams of having a lifelong partner.
So I cling to 2011 and the healing that will come, as God restores, rebuilds, and renews my broken heart and home. As he reframes the shattered building that looked like my hopes. As he gives me a new hope and dream with the healing that is coming.
And He brings joy to my journey.
Each year, I look ahead and claim the year for something. Last year was my year of "new beginnings." 2009 was a year of "change." (Why anyone would ever choose that is beyond me...) But this year is my year of "healing" - and to attain that I claim this statement: "When you are who God wants you to be, you can restore, rebuild, and renew." (see Isaiah 58:12)
2010 was a difficult year. This was the year that my hopes of happily ever after were dashed by the reality of life. What I had held on to for five years was simply not meant to be. And while the relationship had been destined for failure due to time, space, and commitment issues, I had carried it around like a sacred chest, even as it grew so heavy that I had to drag it around me. I prayed and cried and begged God to save it, but in the end, it was not my decision and God released me from dragging around the heavy burden. My marriage ended but it was like a pain of watching your loved one suffer on the machines that breathed life, and while you knew that death was the ultimate release and relief, the final breath was like shockwaves through your soul.
If you have ever experienced death or divorce, you know the grieving process that begins. I have experienced death, as a child my father died when I was 4.5 years old. I have now experienced death of my dreams of having a lifelong partner.
So I cling to 2011 and the healing that will come, as God restores, rebuilds, and renews my broken heart and home. As he reframes the shattered building that looked like my hopes. As he gives me a new hope and dream with the healing that is coming.
And He brings joy to my journey.
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