“One Thousand Gifts” by Ann Voskamp came into my hands at exactly the right time. Wanting joy restored to my life and willing to deliberately seek, but not exactly sure how or where to find; I think my friend, Mary, listened to the Spirit’s prompting and mailed me the book.

 

For the past several weeks I’ve been practicing its core premise of eucharisteo—to be grateful; feel thankful; and give thanks—as the door for joy to reenter. I’ve followed the author’s example and begun a list of 1000 things I love. Her list’s #1 item was a perfect example of inspiration: morning shadows across the old floors.

 

First on my list was: sound of crows in early morning quiet. I smiled when I wrote that down in my “1000 Gifts” journal and I’m smiling as I type it now. It’s fun to consciously look for things I love; but it’s even more fun to feel the joy surge when I write them down.

 

My #10: warm clean clothes fresh out of the dryer. I’ve always liked to hug their warmth, but I’d never written it down until now. I’m smiling again.

 

#24: being awakened in the night by waves of aroma from the baking Thanksgiving ham.

 

#34: sowing wildflower seeds in the fall.

 

#59: brightly colored scarves.

 

#68: listening to the wind before a storm

 

#98: the smell of cornbread baking in my old iron skillet

 

#141: the tiny sound that dry leaves make when they fall

 

#157: thick red clover in the pasture

 

What a wonderful trade—I give him thanks and he gives me joy.

 

 

Enter his gates with thanksgiving;

 

go into his courts with praise.

 

Give thanks to him and praise his name.

 

Psalm 100:4

 

In order to eventually be healthy, I knew that I’d have to be honest with my grief. That didn’t make everyone around me comfortable; but to be truthful, the crushing heaviness of grief doesn’t allow much room for patience with those who are ignorant because they haven’t yet walked the path.

 

Huge life-changing loss isn’t something you ever get over—but it is something you can eventually get past. In the beginning it’s measured by less of the bad, but in time can be measured by more of the good.

 

It’s been four years now; and I’ve thought some about people I’ve known who’ve hanged on to grief and worn it as their life’s cloak. That would be easy enough to do, but it’s sure not appealing. So in the same deliberate way that I made myself be honest with grief, I’m making myself be honest about finding joy in living again.

 

Someone brand new on the path-nobody-wants-to-walk asked me the other day, “So…how is it after four years”?

 

My answer: it’s better; and this year I can honestly say that I feel happy again. I smile more and laugh; and my best friend, who has known me since we were 12 years old, says the lilt is back in my voice.

 

I’m unabashedly aware that I’ve not gotten here under my own strength. I won’t have a clue until I get to heaven, and can ask my Abba Father, just how many people have prayed for me; but I know it’s an enormous number. And I am eternally grateful to each and every one of you.

 

Job 8:21 was one of my Scripture on the go verses years ago, for the Sunday school class I taught and loved; and the tiny little slip of paper has been in my Bible for a long time. I’d read it periodically and trust it would eventually be true for me; and now, for today, it is.

 

He will yet fill your mouth with laughter

 

and your lips with shouts of joy.

Job 8:21

 

Prayer shaming: a newly minted phrase igniting sparks while it illuminates different opinions. While the phrase itself might be new, it really just illustrates that questioning the effectiveness of prayer, and the power of the one true God, isn’t new at all.

 

Prayer, as well as any other words, can be useless platitudes or a methodology of force that rearranges the very essence of created beings.

 

 

Whoever is a believer in Christ

is a new creation.

The old way of living

has disappeared.

A new way of living

has come into existence.

2 Corinthians 5:17

 

 

Violence is evidence of a heart that needs change; and true change is always going to be an issue between two hearts—God’s and mine. People will be forever divided in opinion, but God is never confused by current events or surprised by our blustering words.

 

 

“Surely you must realize what I

and the other kings of Assyria

before me have done

to all the people of the earth!

Were any of the gods

of those nations

able to rescue their people

from my power?

 

Which of their gods

was able to rescue its people

from the destructive power

of my predecessors?

What makes you think your God

can rescue you from me?

 

Don’t let Hezekiah deceive you!

Don’t let him fool you like this!

I say it again—

no god of any nation or kingdom

has ever yet been able

to rescue his people

from me or my ancestors.

How much less

will your God rescue you

from my power!”

 

And Sennacherib’s officers further mocked

the Lord God and his servant Hezekiah,

heaping insult upon insult.

 

The king also sent letters scorning the Lord,

the God of Israel.

He wrote, “Just as the gods

of all the other nations

failed to rescue their people from my power,

so the God of Hezekiah will also fail.”

2 Chronicles 32:13-17

I won’t spoil the story by giving away the ending, but will say that it didn’t turn out well for King Sennacherib.

 

Faith Cora has selected “Chair Leaf” as the name for her new baby brother arriving in February. She chose it all by herself and is solidly settled on it; so now Day and I, but not mommy—because she just shakes her head at us—refer to the still-hidden and growing little guy as Chair Leaf.

 

I’d love to know how she came up with the name. It’d be fascinating to eavesdrop on the thoughts she processed and weeded through in order to select Chair Leaf. It makes me wonder if she likes the way the words sound or if she visualizes the objects and likes how they look. I asked her about it yesterday and she said that Mommy and Day couldn’t agree on a name for her brother so she chose one. That’s actually the cleaned up version because what she really said (and I have it on video) was that they were in a restaurant and Day said “Billy Earl” and Mommy spit at him.

 

We love inserting big new words into her “lexicon” and she readily tells people that she’s a “widdle wing-wist” (little linguist). She and I were having brunch in iHOP the other day and, after finishing her pancakes and bacon, she entertained herself by getting down under our table. A very nice lady, seated all of two feet away from us, asked Faith if she were a puppy dog or kitty cat. Faith looked up at her and said, “I’m a wing-wist”. Moments like that make me very proud to be her Mama Jan.

 

So in spite of not being able to eavesdrop on her thinking, and not really knowing how she processes her thoughts, I sure do love and enjoy spending time with her.

 

It makes me wonder how much more the Lord, who knows everything there is to know about me, enjoys spending time with me and blesses me when we’re together.

 

O Lord, you have examined my heart

and know everything about me.

 

You know when I sit down or stand up.

You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.

 

You see me when I travel

and when I rest at home.

You know everything I do.

 

You know what I am going to say

even before I say it, Lord.

 

You go before me and follow me.

You place your hand of blessing on my head.

 

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,

too great for me to understand!

 

Psalm 139:1-6

 

Four years ago a good friend flew from Virginia to attend my husband’s funeral. No one ever completely understands another person’s deepest hurts, but someone who has walked a similar path comes closest to getting it; her “getting it” had occurred when her husband died unexpectedly four years prior to mine.

 

She gave me a copy of the devotions book “Streams in the Desert” (Cowman)—first published in 1925. I began reading it the night of the funeral when I read October 29^th’s offering. The devotions are relatively short which was a definite plus; because I found it difficult that first year to remain focused on any book—with the clear exception of Scripture. Not hard to figure.

 

I remember thinking that some of the book’s readings felt harsh—not mean-spirited, just hard. It was as though they expected way more spiritual maturity of me than what I had left inside to offer.

 

I write in most of my books and this one has been no exception. I don’t read it daily, but when I do, and especially when I mark something; I note the year beside it. Recently I’ve been interested in seeing what I highlighted that first year. Words from November 18, 2011:

 

…the Lord knows what is best for me,

and my surroundings are determined by Him…

 

to strengthen my faith and power

and to draw me into closer communion

with Himself…

 

my soul will prosper…

 

I may be continually confused and troubled

over questions I cannot solve…

 

that I may learn to trust Him completely—

to trust and not be afraid…

 

I will welcome His will…

And finally:

…blessed are you whose faith is “not offended”

by trials unexplained.

 

Wow. “Blessed” when my faith is “not offended” by trials left unexplained; especially by trials I didn’t cause. Blessed when forced to repeatedly confront the undeniable truth of “I don’t know”.

 

It occurs to me now, that every time I have to say, “I don’t know”, concerning God’s reasons, I’m simply acknowledging He is God and I am not. And with that, I am okay.

 

 

“The LORD our God has secrets

 

known to no one.

 

We are not accountable for them,

 

but we and our children

 

are accountable forever

 

for all that he has revealed to us,

 

so that we may obey…

Deuteronomy 29:29

A good friend recently sent me a copy of “One Thousand Gifts”. The gist of the book is about finding joy through practicing gratitude; and I’ve underlined, highlighted, and scribbled comments and questions to God and self all over its pages.

 

I periodically mention to my friend that I’m mulling over something from the book. She said the other day, “I’m glad I gave it to you. See what a blessing a small thing can do? And it creates a backfire blessing in the giver’s soul!”

 

Blessings, like God, truly aren’t limited by anything—they flow effortlessly through time wherever the Spirit takes them…from the past… replaying again through memory…and ultimately coming forward to the present.

 

Years ago we sowed wildflower seeds along our property’s highway frontage; and every spring and summer the reds, oranges, and yellows faithfully reappear—bringing me great joy.

 

Living in the country wasn’t my idea, but I trusted Dan’s wisdom and have loved its peaceful offerings for many years now. A special blessing is the cawing of the crows in the early morning hours quiet. The sound has always reminded me of a favorite childhood book; and over the last few years has come to alert me to God’s presence. It’s downright amazing how frequently the sound precisely punctuates my walking morning prayers at significant moments. I always smile when it happens because I know what I know.

 

Last Saturday a crew of workers finished cleaning up an outside job at my house; then on Monday one of my small dogs discovered an overlooked puddle of paint beside the front steps. Little white paint paw prints padded up those brick steps, walked the wrap-around wood porch to the new wood back steps, and then down to the driveway.

 

I wasn’t happy with GeorgeE when I viewed the proof positive paw prints of her wanderings; but I was even less happy with the young men who’d left the paint there in the first place.

 

What a coincidence that I’m reading a book about finding exhilarating joy through deliberately practicing radical gratitude…particularly in un-joyful moments.

 

As I dialed the contractor, I told myself to “be nice” about this; and immediately a huge group of crows began cawing.

 

Side story: Faith Cora loves my impromptu stories and our current story line involves big crows holding a conclave to discuss naughty baby crows.

 

I’ve never ever heard “my” crows make such a raucous ruckus; it must have been an exceptionally important conclave—since it continued throughout my entire phone conversation. I smiled the entire time; and the porch and steps are now clean—the paint’s all gone.

 

I’m definitely continuing my joy-seeking; Faith Cora and I just sowed a small meadow with 12 lbs of Texas wildflower seeds…

 

…and looking up to heaven,

 

he gave thanks…

Luke 9:16

 

I didn’t intentionally skip holy communion on the beach at Caesarea Maritima; but as my hiking boots crunched through tiny shells and stone pebbles, I saw a small glistening piece of green glass…glowing from the western sun’s reflection off the azure blue Mediterranean.

 

I first thought it was trash and almost didn’t stop; but when I leaned down and peered more closely, I smiled. Sea glass! A small treasure trove of glass jewels…sea foam green, pale aqua blue, amber-yellow, grey-brown and one large orb of etched white…all tucked in among ordinary wet brown polished rocks.

 

Pieces of what used to be ordinary objects…glass bottles and jars…shattered by who-knows-what life events…and then rough tumbled around in the sea bottom’s currants for years. Finally washed up to rest on the beach…an etched-smooth and jewelry-worthy unique orb of color. Repurposed for a new and different life.

 

I knelt and gathered, while the waves roared and the sea breeze whipped my hair across my face; and thanked the Lord for capping my last day in Israel with such a tangible joy-bringing blessing reminder:

 

…that the very Creator of the universe, whose Spirit is sealed within me, desires to renew and re-purpose my broken pieces.

 

Old to new…one day soon…

 

(Photo by Joy Floyd)

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth,

 

for the old heaven and the old earth had

 

disappeared.

 

And the sea was also gone.

 

And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem,

 

coming down from God out of heaven

 

like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.

 

I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying,

 

“Look, God’s home is now among his people!

 

He will live with them, and they will be his people.

 

God himself will be with them.

 

He will wipe every tear from their eyes,

 

and there will be no more death or sorrow

 

or crying or pain.

 

All these things are gone forever.”

 

And the one sitting on the throne said,

 

“Look, I am making everything new!”

 

Revelation 21:1-5

(Photo by Joy Floyd)

 

When our kids were in first and second grade, we attended a Joe Scruggs children’s folk music concert—and were hooked. Dan and I loved the songs as much as the kids did. That was prior to our Internet access, and I don’t recall how I’d hear about a new release, but would order it just as soon as I knew. We kept all the cassette tapes in the mini-van and they were practically the only music we ever played.

 

I was a little sad when the kids grew past them—because I don’t think I ever did. The lyrics were timeless in so many ways and I was thrilled to discover last year that they’re still available on CD. So I ordered Faith Cora AND myself each a set. Ostensibly mine were to play when she’s with me—but who’s to say what I can or can’t listen to when I’m alone 🙂  ; and it amused me to no end when my sister, whose kids had also listened to them years ago, wanted a set for herself. They are, as she said, reminders of happy times.

 

In the years between back then and now, Joe continued to produce music; and my new current favorite CD is “Garden of the Lord”. If I were musically inclined, and anybody who has ever stood beside me in congregational singing knows that I AM NOT, but if I were, “New Day” could have been written and sung by me.

 

 

New Day

By Joe Scruggs

 

“I have always loved the early morning time.

It’s quiet and I talk to God and pray what’s on my mind.

It’s the time of day just before the stars have all gone dim.

I think He’s smiling down on us and I’m just smiling back at Him.

 

And I love to sing in the morning

When the sun is just below the horizon line

Because I know in the glow that a New Day is coming.

And there is joy in this heart of mine.

 

Heaven it would be if joy were all I had to know

But in this earthly life that’s not how it goes.

His abiding love helps me live this life’s reality.

Joy and sorrow know each other, and joy and sorrow both know me.

 

But I will sing His praises in the morning.

Though sorrow might be my company.

Because His love is so great

And through my heartache,

I see his New Day just waiting there for me.

 

Through mountaintops and valleys this life seems to go.

And all the blessings I’ve received I’m sure I’ll never know.

And with this song I honor God for all that He has done.

I turn my face to feel His grace

With every New Day’s sun…”

 

http://www.hellojoe.com/mp3/New_Day.mp3

 

I suspect it’s the intent of folk music to touch the heart, I don’t really know; I just know that it touches something deep inside of me. The words about joy and sorrow knowing each other; and joy and sorrow both knowing me are so true.

 

During the first few years following Dan’s death, everywhere I looked I saw bittersweet; nothing, it seemed, was purely happy. In times like that it’s surely best to trust the wisdom of the Bright Morning Star who inspired these words:

 

…Weeping may last through the night,

 

but joy comes with the morning.

 

Psalm 31:5

 

What a difference clouds make. When I fly, I like to sit by the window and take pictures of the cloud formations from above. It’s amazing how something made of mist can appear so solid and substantial from a distance.

 

The 2014 – 2015 tetrad of four blood moons has been so interesting to follow. I was totally awed by the first one—and very disappointed when clouds blocked my view of the last three.

 

Sitting outside with my camera last night, I knew the moon’s location because I could see a diffused bright area behind the clouds—I just couldn’t see the moon. Even though I’ve seen the moon in that particular place thousands of times, and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was there—I still couldn’t see or take a picture of it.

 

 

However, my sister in Maryland had an un-obscured view of the moon and got some gorgeous pictures.

 

 

As I waited last night, I thought about God and how it’s sometimes hard to see him; especially when clouds of life block my view. Even when I’ve seen him in my life thousands of times, and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s there—it’s still hard sometimes to see him.

 

But thank the LORD, his presence is totally unaffected by my ability or inability to see him.

 

And if I can believe there was a gorgeous blood moon displayed in the heavens last night—even though I didn’t see any part of it—then how much more can I believe he’s here—even when I don’t see him.

 

 

Your unfailing love, O LORD,

 

is as vast as the heavens;

 

your faithfulness reaches beyond the clouds.

 

Psalm 36:5

 

Feeling the presence of God is wonderful, but what about the times that you don’t? What about the dreary dark days when you remember how it used to feel, but if your very existence depended upon it, you couldn’t regenerate the feelings?

 

A good friend gave me a copy of “Streams in the Desert” at the gathering following my husband’s funeral almost four years ago. The first year’s readings seemed harsh; they expected more of me than I had left inside. The next year somehow lighter; and each reading since has grown sweeter.

 

This year’s September 6^th reading intrigued me. It talked about the difference between realizing and recognizing God’s unseen presence.

 

In order to realize and feel God’s unseen presence, something has to prompt me—a feeling, a physical condition or possibly even the weather.

 

But independent of all that, I can recognize and acknowledge God’s unseen presence simply by choosing to do so.

 

And what a powerful difference that makes.

 

God’s words to Jesus:

 

 

 

He also says to the Son,

 

“In the beginning, Lord,

 

you laid the foundation of the earth

 

and made the heavens with your hands.

 

 

 

They will perish, but you remain forever.

 

They will wear out like old clothing.

 

 

 

You will fold them up like a cloak

 

and discard them like old clothing.

 

But you are always the same;

 

you will live forever.”

 

Hebrews 1:10-12

 

 

 

So He remains—forever and always.

 

Amen.