On Joy

This draft has been sitting on my heart for a few weeks. It's vulnerable for me to write about hard things, and it's easy for me to worry over who this might be forwarded on to. But hard things are real, and real things can lead to deep lessons, and deep lessons are worth sharing. Right? So, here's my heart.

The past few weeks I've been thinking quite a bit about Joy. I'll admit that this season of life for me has been discouraging. I've been feeling tired, discouraged, accused, distrusted, burdened, and weary. I'm so weary. I think only recently I've realized how worn down I've become. But in the midst of this heaviness, I'm grateful for moments of refreshment and restoration. I've felt rebuilt and restored as I've gotten to meet up with old friends and new family. I've had sweet times on sunny porches that wind up with confessions of hurt that lead to healing tears. I've been able to laugh from my toes while sharing salsa and seltzer with dear women in my life here. I've glowed with the feeling of being so loved with kisses on the temple for no reason whatsoever. I've been reminded of the beauty of autumn colors: deep, rich, muted golds and greens and maroons. I've felt at peace in the wilderness, and I've been reminded of the ways God speaks to me there. I've been reminded of how much I love writing and reading words. I've snuggled up with old and new friends with s'mores around a fire. I've been working on engaging in spontaneous time with friends, and been surprised by how easy it can be to enjoy moments that aren't scheduled (this is big for me). I've become more and more grateful for my husband and the patient love he shows me each day. I milked a goat. (See? Spontaneity.) I've learned new games and been reminded of old favorites. I've taken small risks and have received sweet joys.


I've been so hungry for community, but hesitant to seek it for a lot of different reasons. There are large parts of my heart that are still sore from recent experiences, and the temptation is to let those parts harden. And, if I'm honest with myself, I can see that I've let those parts harden to some measure because I've given up on community for the past few months. I haven't been seeking community, and I've been slowly hardening the parts of my heart that have been hurt. Not in an antagonistic, angry, or bitter way, but definitely in a defensive measure to protect my heart. 

But even as I try to close myself off, God is rescuing me from myself and from these reclusive tendencies. He's been sending me reminders of joy and healing my perspective of community through...community. There is something so deeply necessary about friendship without an agenda. I am being reminded of how to participate in relationship without looking for or assuming an agenda in the other person, and I'm finding such healing and joy in the process. I've said before that we experience celebration to the degree that we experience grief, and I'm learning how applicable that core thought is across relationships as well: I can only heal to the degree that I am vulnerable, as hard as that vulnerability might feel after being hurt. The sweetness of Joy is so strengthening in heavy times, but I can only experience the joy of community to the degree that I'm willing to be vulnerable. 

I am still very much in the process of learning these lessons, and of being able to (or willing to) articulate them to others. But I think they're worth looking into.

Maundy Thursday

Lent is my favorite season in the liturgical calendar. I love the extended time to focus on the life, ministry, and death of Christ. And I love the anticipation that it builds toward celebrating the Resurrection! It can be such a beautiful season of fasting, grieving, and thorough celebration.

To be honest, this season of Lent hasn't felt very focused for me. Ryan and I were out of town for nearly every weekend in March, which put our search for a church home in Laramie on hold for a bit longer than we were expecting. In addition to that, work at SROM has been incredibly full and a little overwhelming for me at times. It's been a hard season to focus! But I'm realizing that I am thankful for two things: one, that my salvation is not based on whether or not I can keep myself focused and fasting for forty days. And, two, that there is still time to experience some of the richness of this season! God is so good like that, isn't He? To remind us of things that we've distracted ourselves from in enough time to still get to experience them! What a gift!

I pray that in this weekend is a time of rest and reflection. I pray for the grace to sit at the feet of my Lord and meditate on His sacrifice. I pray for a deeper understanding of the Resurrection, and an overwhelming joy and celebration on Sunday!
 

Jehovah Jireh

"Jehovah Jireh

My Provider

His grace is sufficient for me"

 

Ryan and I were in San Fransisco last week for his brother's wedding (which was spectacular!) and then spent the next few days exploring. We were so grateful to get to spend time with his family in California, and we couldn't be happier for Eric and Jenn! 

(my best man)

After the wedding on Saturday, we spent the next Sunday and Monday hanging out with his family and exploring local vineyards, olive oil presses, and the bay area of San Fransisco. We got a little taste of California's redwoods on Monday morning, which got us even more excited for Yosemite! We made it to the park on Tuesday evening, and even squeezed in a little hike after setting up camp Tuesday night. (We probably could have hiked for longer if I hadn't stopped so often to gape at the gorgeous views and take pictures of everything.)

 

Wednesday we hiked up the Mist Trail to Vernal and Nevada falls. We stopped for lunch at the top of Nevada Falls, and reconsidered our options for the rest of the day. Though we had initially thought of just hiking to the waterfalls, we changed our itinerary and decided to continue on the Muir Trail up to Glacier Point. It was a long, hot, dry hike, but the views were absolutely spectacular. The hike up the Panorama Trail gave us an incredible perspective, and we could see Half Dome, all of Vernal and Nevada Falls, and Illilouette Falls. From Glacier Point, we could see nearly the entire valley. It was well worth the 16+ miles and staggering back to camp after dark!

 

We slept in on Thursday morning, packed up camp, did a few quick (paved) trails to Lower Yosemite Falls and Bridal Veil Falls, and said goodbye to Yosemite. We had been hoping to spend some time in the Tahoe National Forest, but realized that it would take us way further out of our way than we had initially planned for. So we stopped at Lake Tahoe for a few hours instead!

Representing SROM at Lake Tahoe!

We drove across most of Nevada on Friday, and stopped for dinner in the little town of Wendover, just west of the Salt Flats of Utah. When we got back on the one-way section of I-80 after dinner, the dreaded engine light came on and the engine gauge indicated that we were in danger of overheating. We pulled over, popped the hood, and let the engine cool down a bit. Ryan checked the coolant levels and we were completely dry...it had sprayed out and was leaking out the bottom of the car. Thankfully we had filled up our water bottles before we had left that morning, so we had plenty of water to use until we could make it to a gas station (54 miles away) for coolant. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't quite that easy. We started driving again, and almost immediately had to pull over again. The engine was still indicating dangerously high temperatures. As it turns out, the radiator hose had separated from the radiator, and all of our water had drained out. We had the Jeep towed to a local mechanic in Wendover and booked a hotel for the night. After the mechanic had taken a look at it, he showed Ryan and I that it wasn't as simple as replacing the radiator hose; the piece of the radiator that connects to the hose had completely melted off, and we would need to replace the entire radiator. He said he had found one at the local junkyard that seemed like it would work, and that he still would probably be able to get us on the road by closing time (3:00pm). If the one from the junkyard couldn't work, the mechanic said he could order one and have it in Wendover by Tuesday. (Tuesday!!)

(there's just something poetic about being broken down in the desert)

Long story short, the junkyard radiator was just different enough that it couldn't work. Ryan and I rented a car, drove to Salt Lake City, and searched for a radiator there. The parts store that had initially said they had the correct radiator had the same model as the junkyard: no good for us. We finally found a usable radiator in the little town of Toole, and made it back to Wendover at around 4:00pm. The mechanic (who I now believe is a chain-smoking angel on earth) stayed late in order to get the radiator in our Jeep and get us on the road!

As we were (finally) driving back to Wyoming, I had a lot of time to think about God and His provision. Jehovah Jireh, my Provider. God provided a radiator and a skilled (and generous) mechanic for us in the middle of Nowhere, Nevada! But that is not what makes God my Provider. 

God is my Provider because He has provided an atonement for my sin and a way back to restored relationship with Him. As the season of Lent draws to a close, I'm so grateful for this reminder! Yes, God has and continues to provide for Ryan and I. On a very tangible level, I get to continue to work at SROM because God provides financial support for me each and every month! But I think I can get too used to the idea that God provides what I think I need on a day-to-day basis, and I forget that the greatest demonstration of His provision is first and foremost that He provided a way for this sinner to return to Him. If we had been stuck in Wendover for a year, God would still be Provider. If all of my monthly financial support stopped today, God would still be Provider. If all of my perceived needs were never met again, God would still be Provider.

It's a hard concept for me to wrestle around in my mind. I confess, I think I've become comfortable. I've become accustomed to having enough to eat and a safe place to live; I'm accustomed to having my basic needs met. And while I absolutely recognize that it is all from God's hand that these things come, I'm tempted to base my understanding of His provision on whether or not my needs are being met. As Ryan and I were searching for a radiator, I confess being a little frustrated with God: "Why haven't You provided one yet? Are You going to provide in my timing, or am I going to have to figure this one out myself?" I began to wane in my trust of His provision because I was too narrowly focused on the here and now. Jehovah Jireh, my Provider. His grace is sufficient for me. His grace is sufficient for me.

His grace is sufficient for me. In His grace, He provided a perfect Savior for me. If I don't see that as enough, I am woefully underestimating my own sinfulness and His righteousness.

Lord, You are my Provider. You provided a way where there was none. You provided a perfect sacrifice through Jesus, and You provide grace for each day. Thank You. And thank You for little day-to-day reminders of Your total provision. You are so Good. You are so Good to me.