Joy of the Lord

I must admit to living in a spiritual fog these last couple of days. Not a big dark cloud, just a light fog. Christmas is lovely as a season, but the day itself... well so many people are lonely or depressed or in need, or at war, or any number of other things, that I found myself dwelling on that lack. And that is always wrong. What I wasn't doing was dwelling on the limitless abundance of God and his precious promise to wipe the tears from all their eyes. I prayed for everyone yesterday, and had no doubt about God's reality. But still, I couldn't help feeling sadness for the lost and lonely. The buildup to Christmas day is, well we all know what it is. It's downright gross. The mental and emotional stress of planning for this ONE DAY is out of wack. (The very fact that desperate shoppers could stampede and kill a worker who simply opened the doors to Wal Mart on the day after Thanksgiving of all things, well come on. And they kept on shopping! Well, here I go again. Dwelling on the bad. )

But when bad things happen, we can't just ignore it. At the very least, we need to learn from it. And maybe in some cases the learning process cannot be really effective without pain to drive home the point. Yesterday I was not as joyful as I should have been. As I could have been. But today is a new day and the fog is disappearing. In fact, it was really more like ground fog. All I had to do was stand a little taller, rise a little higher to see over the top of it.


Compassion is good, and sympathy is okay, but allowing myself to wallow in other people's misery is not productive. It limits the faith with which I may pray. Giving someone into God's hands means really doing it and then leaving them there. "The joy of the Lord is your strength." But I was limiting my prayer strength by limiting my joy.


What I felt did remind me, though, of the reality of people's pain. It reminded me that not everyone knows how to depend on God to heal them and relieve their pain. It put me in their frame of mind to remind me that the truth needs to be told. Again, and again, and again. Just as I apparently need to be reminded again and again, I must keep opening my heart to and opening my eyes to opportunities to tell anyone who is willing to listen, who is ripe for listening, about God's abundant and available love and help. He's available always, but we won't benefit from His presence until we ask for it, and understand our need for it. When we do, Christ will come right into us and make us into a new person. One who has access to abundant life no matter what the circumstances.

I'm writing in circles here I think. I probably shouldn't even put this out there where anyone can read it and think it's just ramblings. But I'm writing it for myself. To remind myself that lots of other people don't know what I know. I guess it's a leftover feeling of inferiority that makes me think that if I know something, then surely everyone else knows it. Surely I'm always the dummy who's the last to know. But it isn't true. And I have to be ever ready to share what I know of God, of Christ, of the true meaning of abundant life, and of the Joy of the Lord.