I usually don’t participate in #ThrowbackThursday on Facebook, mainly because I never think to pull out any pictures to share.  But this week I’ve enjoyed looking at my friend Denise Russell Reagan’s older pics she as posted as she has been going through old picture albums.  Someone else, though I can’t remember who, has also used these snow days to look through old photo albums and post pictures.

So today I dug out my dusty box with our pictures in it.  It used to be much fuller.  But after Jack went to prison and our divorce, there came a day that it was just too painful to hold on to many of those pictures, and I threw much away, including all of our wedding photos and my baptism photos.

But there are a few photos from happier days that I kept.  I made sure each child still has a picture of him or her with their father.  And today I came across 3 pictures of Mark’s baptism by Jack, in the ocean of Hawaii.

And now I wish I had kept my baptismal pictures.

Because looking at Mark’s baptism pictures today brought me much joy.  That, even though he is struggling with church and Christianity right now (which I can completely relate to), I have the assurance that He knows that there is a God who loves him very much.  How do I know he knows this?  Because we discuss it.  A lot.  And honestly.  Which is a gift from God in and of itself.

I showed him his baptism pictures today, which prompted another painful yet wonderful conversation.  Can something be painful and wonderful all at the same time?  Yes, I know that it can, because I have experienced both intense joy and intense suffering in conjecture with each other.

Take my baptism.  I was baptized at Seaford Baptist Church by my then husband.  It was a special time, an intimate time between me and my God, and a small group of amazing friends.  On Easter Sunday Evening.  A beautiful Sunday.

For a long time after Jack’s arrest and our subsequent divorce, I couldn’t bear to think about my baptism.  I felt robbed in a way–robbed of the joy, because of my extreme sorrow in losing my husband to his choice of heinous crime.  Robbed by God.  I even questioned my baptism and it’s validation for a time.

But now, I remember my baptism with both joy and pain.  Pain, of course, over the suffering that was to follow that fall after my baptism.  But that pain is vastly overshadowed by the realization of what baptism is, and the joy–the celebration!–that baptism is.  The music that played, the songs that we sang, the scripture that was read, and then the actual depiction of being buried in death to myself, and raised to newness in life with my Jesus.

And that is what I want for my son to remember, so I’ll hang on to his baptism pictures there in the ocean, with his father, knowing that the most important part is the joy of His heavenly father at Mark’s obedience in baptism.

This is just one example of many that illustrates the importance of and the ability to find joy in the midst of suffering.  Our God provides this joy.  It may not seem like it is joy when you are in the midst of the suffering—I struggled for a long time to see the joy in my baptism—but when God grants you perspective, so many times there are moments of joy even in the midst of tremendous suffering.  Maybe it’s a friend who ministers deeply to you in your time of need.  Maybe it is something like sensing the presence of God in such a way that doesn’t make logical sense at the time.  Or maybe it’s your child’s smile in the midst of tremendous grief.

We have to hold on to those moments.  I have to hold on to those moments.  Because when the darkness of depression descends, which it does frequently, it is often these moments of joy that either keep me out of the deep pit or keep me from falling into that pit–that dark, cold, lonely place of depression.

C.S. Lewis wrote a book titled “Surprised by Joy”.  It’s essentially his autobiography, with a lot of focus on how he became a believer.  Great book; but I especially like the title.  Surprised by joy.  I have been surprised by joy today in the form of pictures of my ex-husband baptizing my son, and remembering my very own baptism.  I am grateful for these moments today in the midst of fighting off deep depression, because they remind me that my Savior sees, knows and loves each of us so.

I can’t think of a better passage that describes this than 1 Peter 3:1-9.  Read it.  Slowly.  Let the words work on your soul.

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you,5 who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, 7 so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory,9 obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

O God, there is so much suffering in the world.  Show us the joy.  Show us the true focus which should be on you and the proclamation of your name.  God it’s so hard, when we are in the midst of the suffering, to see the joy.  Even worse, it is so hard to sense Your presence in the midst of extreme suffering.  Remind us that you are there.  Remind us in our depression and despair that you are there.  Remind us in our waiting–such as Joseph’s waiting for many years–that you are still there and have not forgotten us; and that your work will be done.  Help our unbelief.  Help my unbelief.  Amen.  Amen.

 

I’m not a huge fan of Christian fiction.  I rarely read it.  But I’ve stumbled across a series about David and his Mighty Men that has captured my attention.  It is the Lion of War series by Cliff Graham.  Well-written, it contains battle action, history and the story of Yahweh’s presence with David.  Reading it is leading me back to scripture to read the story of David, which a good Christian fiction book should do.

I’m nearing the end of the first volume in a three volume set (the second book arrived today 🙂 ).  David and his band of men are about to attack the Amalekites who raided their home of Ziklag, taking their families captive.  David and one of his close compatriots, Benaiah, are quietly talking before the raid.  Benaiah is asking David about God’s presence.  David has often told the men that they must ask Yahweh(God) to cover them in the Day of War.

Benaiah asks David in the quiet before battle, almost with a sense of anguish:

“But why the day of war?  Why do we only ask for it then?  Why not when a man is in his field plowing?  Why not when he is with his family, or when he has left them and wants them to be safe and protected?  Why not every day?”

David answers him simply:  “Every day is the day of war.”

Of course, this incident is not recorded in scripture.  But it rings with a certain truth about it and it captured my mind and soul.  Because you know what?  Every day is the day of war.

Every day is a battle.  It’s a battle every morning before I even get out of bed.  Am I going to trust God this day?  Or am I going to trust myself?  Am I going to listen for his direction, or am I going to direct my own life?  Am I going to face the day on my own, messed up, or am I going to spend the first part of the day before God, in worship and in prayer?

Like I said, the battle begins every morning before I even get out of bed.

Benaiah was right to ask David his questions.  Because they are important questions.  What good would a god be, if his presence was only available during time of war.  Or crises.  Or suffering?  Oh yes, we need God’s covering during those times.  Especially in times of deep suffering–we need to sense God’s presence and we need to seek God’s presence.  And when we don’t sense His presence, we need to learn somehow that elusive ability to trust that He is there.

However, I don’t know about you, but I need God every day.  I need him as I sit and work on spreadsheets and make teleconference calls all day.  I need Him as I parent my four children every day.  I need Him on the days when nothing is wrong, but everything is wrong.  I need Him.  I need Him in the Day of War.  In every Day of War.

We see that David understood this when we read the Psalms that he wrote.  We see that he understood his need for God’s protection, His strength, His guidance.  We can see this in Psalm 3, below:

 

Well.

This has definitely been the hardest weight loss that I have taken on.  Always before, the weight has come off quickly.  Not this time.  It’s taking it’s own sweet time, even though I am staying committed to my calorie limit each day and slowly increasing my exercise.

But I’m close to 10 pounds…I should hit 10 pound loss by Tuesday.  That’s my estimate.  Right now I’m at 9 pounds gone.  I try to keep reminding myself that that is 9 pounds I’m not carrying around anymore.  If I continue to think that way, I should be able to keep motivated.

I can’t really tell much difference yet.  I don’t think I’ll feel a difference until 20 pounds or more are gone.

I’d like to see 10 pounds lost each month throughout 2014.  I don’t know if that is possible or not, but that’s my goal.  That would put me at my goal weight by February 2015.

It’s frustrating.  But I keep fighting.  Every single day.  I must replace comfort eating with comfort scripture work and prayer, and healthy activities such as exercise.

So, I’ll keep it up.  I’ll keep pushing myself harder and harder.  It’s a physical, mental and spiritual fight.  By God’s grace, I hope to win.

 

That’s not a pleasant picture, is it??

I had to call a plumber this week.

Our bathtub wouldn’t drain.  At all.  Needless to say, it was nasty.  And, an emergency.  Not the kind of emergency where someone might die, though the idea of a house with 4 un-showered teenagers may make you want to die.

It was filled nearly to the top from the last person who showered.  And it was gross.

I called the plumber, and even though he couldn’t get here until the end of his day, he was willing to extend his day in order to take care of our problem.  This guy was a saint.

When he arrived, I embarrassingly showed him the way to the tub.  He told me that either it was going to be a quick fix or an expensive fix.  Of course I immediately started praying for the quick fix.

Then, much to my surprise, he plunged his hand into that yucky water and started fishing around.  He used a screw driver to remove the fixture that stops up the drain so you can take a bath, and he pulled it out and showed it to me.  He then wiped his finger over some brown gunk on there and said “You don’t want to know what this is.”  Nice, as my stomach turned over.

He then proceeded to tell me that the contraption he was holding in his hand actually belonged deep down in the belly of the mechanics of the tub, and it had, over time, become loose.  There wasn’t a clog, or if there was, the entire bottle of Draino I dumped into the tub took care of it.  No, it was in the depths of the tub that the problem occurred.  And, it was an easy fix.  He was out of here in 30 minutes.

Later that night I thought about that nasty tub.  The problem was in the depth of the tub.  And so often my “problems”, be they sins or hurts or other issues, occur in the depths of my soul.  Sometimes so deep that I can’t even reach them–just like there was no way I could reach the problem with the tub.  And so my soul fills with bitterness just like the tub filled with nasty water.  And then I stand on the edge of a pit, or in the pit itself, with no way to rescue myself.

But I have a God who knows my soul better than I do.  He knows my sins of jealousy and envy, of selfishness and self-pity. He knows my hurts and my loneliness.  He knows me—and He knows you–better than we do.  And He, like the plumber, is not afraid to dive into the depths of our messy souls in order to root out the problem.

Just like the relief I felt when I saw the tub flowing freely again, there is great relief when we let God plumb the depths of our soul.  We may be ashamed, or it may even hurt as He “takes us apart”, but the joy that returns is so worth it.  And had I let that water stand for several days before calling the plumber, the yucky would have increased–mold, mildew, smelliness–leading to a much larger problem and more pain and time to fix the problem.  How better to catch soul problems early and take them to God then to let them fester and build up mold and mildew over time!!

Job knew this.  He knew deep bitterness of the soul–he spoke of it.  But he also spoke of the one who–even though Job couldn’t understand how–could save his soul from this pit.  And even though his friends got much wrong, Job’s friend Elihu did get something right.  We see this is Job 33:28-30: