Even the orange juice is holy, I thought this morning when I poured it at breakfast. Bright orange in the goblet, the taste sharp on the tongue, bittersweet, pure.
I’ve been looking for the small things, the moments of joy. The two yellow sunflowers bending above our tangled garden mass. The bright zinnia heads–their stems knotted and browning beneath–and the yellow splash of marigolds along the front edge of the garden.
The love of Ivan’s parents for our little girl. Even Grandpa smiles and talks to her. Grandpa, who is far down the road of dementia and doesn’t carry a sensible conversation much with anyone. But he loves Annalise, and talks to her and barks at her, which cracks me up because my dad does exactly the same thing. And Ivan growls. (Must be a guy thing.)
I’ve been looking for these moments of joy because I’ve been struggling with feeling overwhelmed, confused, and disappointed beneath. I won’t explain why except that abundance doesn’t necessarily bring joy and a few nights with less sleep than I like don’t help my frame of mind.
I’ve also been thinking a lot about the 17 missionaries who were kidnapped in Haiti, wondering what life is like for them right now.
And wondering why…why for them and why for so many other Christians on Planet Earth. Because isn’t that what life is like so often? We start out with grand dreams of doing something, being something, helping someone, spreading the Kingdom, and find ourselves trapped somewhere in a place we didn’t expect, not accomplishing, not being who we thought we would be. Just waiting. Because that’s what God said we should do.
Our economy is almost never God’s economy.
So I’ve been trying to wrap my mind around that and trying to wrap my heart around gratitude for the abundance I know that I have. And this morning I asked God to help bring it together for me, to bring clarity to my tangled mass of thoughts.
Coming from a pleasant doze of a nap after breakfast–He often gets through to me during half-sleep, when my mind is not so tangled in logic and desire– He brought these words to my mind:
I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord. I’ll do what you want me to do. I’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord. I’ll be what you want me to be.
I prayed this prayer long ago, in what was one of the purest and most wholehearted moments of my life–like a glass of orange juice, sweet tart pure on the tongue. You can read what I wrote about the experience in an earlier blog.
And now He reminded me of it. He’s reminded me before, when my thoughts were tangled and joy felt distant. This prayer has been an anchor for me during the most difficult seasons of my life.
I remember again that this prayer is mine and it brings such joy to my heart.
P.S. Shari Zook wrote a review of Turtle Heart over on Confessions. Read it. “Someday Luci and I will cross paths for coffee,” she writes. “I can feel it in my left little finger.” Reading her review, the things that she “got” and the questions she asked, my right little finger agrees.
Photo credit to Sharla Miller of artistic_diversion.
That makes it a pinkie promise. 😉 Yay!
I know an old man that comes to our church when he can (lives in an assisted living with continual lock downs) and he had a classic bark for the children😃 I hope the 2 little fingers meet eventually and then write about it😉
That’s awesome! And I will keep a meeting blog post in mind. :)
I appreciate your thoughts and I agree how is it that we can look at where we are at beautiful and blessed as it may be and feel discontent? And yet it is true and I think it’s one of the restraints of living in this earthly body that was made for heaven. And I’m delighted to have won your book on another blog and because I live overseas, it’s being sent to my second born who turns 25 today. ( Btw, Cody your former classmate is also one of my 5! So I feel like I might know you;)
Becki, it’s so good to hear from you. I very much enjoyed getting to know Cody at Sattler, and Cheyenne as well when she came to visit. I actually mailed that book to her the other week and signed it with her name, thinking she was the winner! Ah well. I hope you both enjoy reading it.
Like you, I, for years, have been looking for the small things. I have this secret thing I do and until recently I told no one. I think of some moments as yellow – bright, sunshine yellow – and I wait for these moments. Eating a chocolate or a chunk of smoked cheddar, listening to a song, feeling the wind move my hair, hearing my mother’s voice… these are the kinds of things that make moments yellow for me. When I struggle – which is often – and especially when I’m coming out of a long night of black, where my heart has given me trouble and I’m tempted to dwell in black places – to recall the difficulty – to relive those moments – to dread their return… I force myself out of the black and into the yellow. I live in expectation of yellow moments. Like popcorn on a string. The stuff between doesn’t matter so much if the bright bits are where my focus lies. After years of keeping this to myself, I’m starting to share the strategy with others who struggle. Hearing about your moments of joy gives me joy. I relate to the need to look for the small things.
I love this, Holly! Bright yellow sunshine moments. What a beautiful and apt description. Thank you for sharing.
Sorry for the hard times!💙 And what you said about finding joy in the little things, what a journey this can be!