Five Minute Friday: Joy

My slightly creepy JOY face.

Joy scares me.  What if I am fundamentally incapable of not feeling joy?  I've always had one reason or another to not have joy: young kids, a stressful job, a husband with a stressful job, responsibilities.  Blah, blah blah.

I am approaching a new day in my life.  One week from today will be my last day at work.  Forever?  Probably not.  But definitely, for now.

There are so many things that I want to do with my life, so many directions it could go.  I am excited for sure, but do I have joy about it?

A couple weeks ago my pastor preached on joy, saying it was one of the hardest sermons he's ever delivered.  I get it.  We all think we should have joy.  We all want others to think we have joy.  But I am going to be transparent and say when my heart is hurting, and life is all confused, it's ok for the joy to feel a little less.  Because in that way when we do recognize the joy again, it will feel so much stronger.

So back to my last day at work.  Writing for these few minutes have given me more joy than the last 14 years in mortgage lending.  I know that whatever comes from these changes I'm going through that I am making the decision to do what my family needs.  And so, yes, I guess there is joy in that.

When God Doesn't Call on You

Today I met with my younger son's teacher (Mrs. J) and speech teacher (Mrs. M) for what's known as an IEP.  For those of you who don't have children with special learning needs, an Individualized Education Plan (or IEP) is parent-teacher-specialist collaboration that meets with varying frequency depending on the needs of your child.  Josiah has never had major speech delays (he speaks enough for two kids if you ask me) but has never been able to perfectly pronounce certain words.  His major challenge right now is the letter R when in the middle or end of a word, and for this he meets with a speech teacher once a week for 25 minutes in a group setting.  The inability to articulate the letter R probably doesn't seem like a big deal until you consider all the words that have the letter R in it!  And actually, if he lived in Boston he wouldn't be in speech at all.  Park the car in Harvard yard.  I digress.

As I was saying, this morning I met with my son's speech teacher.  I was sharing some concerns with her about his reading skills.  She told me she wasn't concerned and then shared the GREATEST story with me.  I know my both my sons are sensitive souls like their mom, but this story touched my heart beyond measure. One day in speech therapy, Josiah repetitively raised his hand to answer the questions Mrs M asked of the group.  Knowing that Josiah knew the answer, and wanting to give all the kids an opportunity to answer, Mrs M called on all the other students.  Josiah eventually broke down in tears.  When questioned, Josiah sobbed to Mrs M, "You don't like me."

As the other students left to return their normal class, Mrs Mr reassured Josiah that she does in fact like him and let him in on their "secret", that she had to give the other kids an opportunity to answer because she already knows how smart he is.

I began to wonder if sometimes we don't treat God in this same way.  Sitting amongst our peers in the classroom of life, we eagerly raise our hand when God asks a question.  Some time goes by and God doesn't act like He sees our hand, so we raise it a little higher.  As more time proceeds we push our arm so high into the air that it feels it may rip out of it's socket and shoot straight into the sky.  But still, God doesn't call on me.  And at that moment I know, yes, I know that God doesn't like me.  Why else wouldn't He call on me when so clearly I know the answer?

I want to encourage you know, friend.  If your are in a life moment where it seems that God just won't call on you, stay the course.  Rest assured that He has a plan for you in His right time.

Firstfruits

"Honor the Lord with your wealth, with the firstfruits of all your crops; then your barns will be filled to overflowing, and your vats will brim over with new wine." Proverbs 3:9-10

One of the most pleasant surprises when we bought our home was the selection of fruit trees that now belonged to us - lemons, bananas, persimmons, and figs! The fig tree, located just outside my bedroom window, has taught me more about faith than seemed possible

The figs, oh, the figs! They are so delicious. I never knew what a fresh fig tasted like until I tasted these. And to think that at one time in my life my only connection to figs was the Fig Newton.

Each summer when fig season rolls around I watch eagerly, waiting to pick the first of the season. As summer progesses I look out my window each day waiting to see that the figs are ready to be picked. When they are finally ready, I head outside and pick the first few... for my friend Barbara.

Yes, the first fruits of my fig tree always go to Barb! Does she pay my mortgage or tend to my garden? No. But I know what joy they give her. And knowing they will please her makes it so easy to give them away. As much as enjoy eating my figs, giving them to her tasted even more delicious.

Lord, help me to offer the first fruits of my life to You with the same willingness and excitedness as I give my figs to my friend. Let me honor you with my heart and actions.

Jesus Messed Me Up

I walked into work at 8:37 (23 minutes early, woo hoo!) praying the prayer, "Jesus, mess me up."  I've been reading Jen Hatmaker's book 7 in which she takes 7 months to focus on 7 areas of her life.  She is big on social justice - which admittedly I'm less interested in than I probably should be because it always feels so political - and through this process of 7-ing her life she has questioned her priorities, her motives, and her faith.

In the chapter she discusses the month she spent giving away her possessions, she makes the statement how her husband sent Shane Claiborne (an activist/author/preacher) "an email through dubious channels basically telling him The Irresistible Revolution was messing his wife up."  She goes into a beautiful narrative of the Easter service in which Shane asks for those in attendance to leave their shoes at the altar to be give to the local homeless population.  In similar sentiment to Jen's observation, I must candidly admit we've done a lot of unique things at Easter services (and through the year, too), but never once have we had a service where we took the clothe off our back, err feet, as a tangible sacrifice to the will of God.  And so with this in mind I prayed that prayer: Jesus, mess me up.  Make Your will, my will.

And then it began, the work day.  I love my job and the fascinating information I learn about people (hey, you'd learn a lot about people too if you reviewed their tax returns and bank statements).  But today was different, I had the task of reading a lawsuit against a Home Owner's Association.  Oh joy!  I've read these before, dozens of time.  So and so did such and such... things like, Sally Smith in Unit 3B won't mow her grass and now my unit looks atrocious sitting next to hers.  Or there was one that went something like Bob and Linda, located in the unit directly above mine, removed the carpet from their unit and now the noise in my home is unbearable.  I'm not joking, people sue over these things!

Today's reading was something entirely different.  "David" and "Michael" are a homosexual couple who were physically and verbally assaulted at an owner's meeting.  In great length, the verbal insults were detailed (none of which I would feel comfortable writing here) and the step by step physical assault played out.  Oh, and did I mention the private security company not only was present, they held back those who were trying to help?

This messed me up.

As it should.

Agree with a lifestyle or not, no one should act this way.  I began to think about all the types of assaults that occur regularly and quietly get swept under the rug.  And then worse, how often have I been the one to say something against another undeserving of such judgement?  Sure, I've never physically kicked a person that I disagree with, but I may have verbally kicked them.  What would I have done if I had been in that meeting?  Would I have been a peacemaker or would I have quietly slipped out?  If I had to fathom a guess, I'd be embarrassed to admit which is more likely.

Jesus, continue to mess me up.  Open my eyes to the truth around me.  Don't let me closed minded to opportunities to serve You by serving my neighbor.

But who is my neighbor? Someone once asked Jesus that:

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?"

In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead.  A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.  But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him.  He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him.  The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” (Luke 10:29-37, NIV)

Joy...

The Bible makes it pretty clear, if we have faith in Christ, there should be joy in our life.

• 1 Thessalonians 5:18 says "Always be joyful."
• Galatians 5:22 says "But the Spirit produces the fruit of... joy..."
• Nehemiah 8:10 says "...Go and enjoy good food and sweet drinks. Send some to people who have none, because today is a holy day to the Lord. Don’t be sad, because the joy of the Lord will make you strong."
• Psalm 47:1 says us to "Clap your hands, all you people. Shout to God with joy."

So I turned on my new $1 TobyMac CD and listened to some Funky Jesus Music. And there was definitely some joy after that.

But how do we reconcile these instructions with real life? Like today, when I had carved out a rest day. I haven't been feeling well for a few days, and with nothing on the calender I knew today was the right day to hang out around the house, relax, and work on somethings I'd been postponing. One of those things: Laundry.

I was on my third load - and if I do say so myself - really rocking the laundry, having actually folded and put away most of the two previous loads I'd done, when I heard that ominous sound of water flooding. We've been having a problem with water coming out of our toilet (yes, toilet) when we wash laundry, but had pretty much determined it only happened when we washed large/heavy loads.

The plumber is already scheduled to come out on Monday, but that didn't help today when that water started flooding.

As I ran to the laundry room I realized, to my horror, that there was only one way to get the mop... by walking through the flood. Yes, by walking through the toilet flood. Ugh!

So where's the joy in that?

I couldn't change the brokenness of my equipment, or the sewage water all over my floor, or even the fact that I was going to have to clean it up on a day off. The only thing I could change was me.