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Thursday, February 23, 2017

Little Miss Independent

Earlier this week, I had the treat of hanging out with a friend and her four kiddos of varying ages with the youngest being 2.  On both Monday and Tuesday when out and about with the family, I found myself, often unconsciously, keeping a closer eye on Little Miss Independent.  She knew it and I could tell she wasn’t too keen on the idea of me tracing her steps or holding on to her hood in the middle of a ski slope just to keep her in my perimeter and be able to grab her if I needed to.  Often if I wasn’t super close, she would play just fine on her own but still, I’d find myself checking in, blocking entries or calling her back more often than pleased her and she let me know.  It wasn’t often, but every once in a while, the situation came where I had to scoop her up into my arms and she’d scream and often her mom was near and so she’d cry for mom and be somewhat-content to be held by her mother for all of 3.2 seconds before begging to be put back down again. 



So when all the moments are added together, there were many a times where she’d be content if I just stayed busy with my own thing while she did hers all on her own but sometimes there was glimmers of her inviting me in.  This one moment I remember vividly, we were down in the toy section and the rest of the family was going to go upstairs to the rest of the store so I was content to stay down with Little Miss and let her play while they explored but when she heard everyone was going upstairs, she was determined to go too.  I hung back a few moments to make sure the youngest son began heading for the stairs and Little Miss looked back and waited for me.  I kind of had my hand out as my body was leaned back craning my neck to look for the boy and she reached for my hand and began walking towards the stairs.  She does stairs just fine these days but she held my hand up each step til she reached the top and then that moment was done.  When she is allowed to reach out and interact on her own terms, she was so stinkin sweet about it.



I haven’t been able to shake that event off in the last few days.  It makes me wonder if that’s how we can treat and see God.  God sees and knows all but we don’t always welcome His “lurking” and don’t want His protection or guidance.  We can play just fine on our own and protect ourselves as need be, or so we think.  Then there are those moments when life hits you hard and lets you down, that God so clearly scoops you up and holds you together and yet all you can do is say, “….but I want my mommy.”  I guess depending on who you are, it may not be a mom but you can fill in the blank with whatever you feel like will be the key to happiness.  But even if you finally got that one thing you wanted, you’d still not be happy and want to continue living life grasping for the next best thing. 



But how sweet a moment, when the God who has been there all along, is invited in personally by us.  When it is not seen as Him scooping us but instead us reaching up and out to Him.  Though many times we have ignored His advice, shrugged off His comforting arms, and run away from His protective stance, He is still faithful and oh so willing, to step in when we cry out to Him needing Him the most.  How cold and distant that kind of rejection would feel to us humans, and yet He steps in, quick to forgive, to protect and to heal as we come on our own accord. 


Lord, please change my heart from being a Little Miss Independent to one that seeks comfort, protection and guidance from You. 



Joy Lynn

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Oh Death


The darkness creeps

Beneath our feet

Never know when it will grasp and cling

Filled waiting rooms

Shuffling and stuttering to feel fine

Waiting to hear if it was finally time

Bright hospital rooms

Muffled cries

Whispers of last goodbyes



But sometimes the setting is less serene

Sometimes in the middle of busy things

Over the railing of a bridge

In the grasp of a knot

At the tip of a knife

Or the sound of a shot

It’s the end of a life

With the victim calling the shots

Nobody saw it coming but we all feel the loss



Death it comes

And swallows up time

Never ready to say goodbye

Whether you saw it coming

Or it took you by surprise

It’s something you don’t want to look in the eye

For in it holds the breath of time

And invincibility lays aside

All because of the harsh passing of time



As lives pass on by

Eternity is in sight

Where will you go when you’re due?

Sin has us marred and destined for death

But where, oh death, is your victory?

Where, death, is your sting? (1 Corinthians 15:55)

It was nailed to the cross at Calvary

If only you’d just believe and receive

Victory through Christ our King (1 Corinthians 15:57)



Joy Lynn

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Scars Tell A Story

Scars Tell A Story


White picket fences
Lofty facades
Painted shutters
Seeking applause 

As you knock on the door
It slowly cracks
You wonder how many doors
This mansion packs

Step inside
What do you see?
Everything in the entry
Kept nice and clean

Sit on the couch
Creaks underneath
Plastic protection
Acts as a shielding sheet

Everything’s lovely
But nothing is real
Fashionably designed
For public appeal

You begin to inquire
Question your host
Do you even live here
Or are you a ghost?

With a glimmer in their eye
The dam begins to break
They walk down the dark hall
With tears running down their face

With a single-edge razor blade
Straight to the skin
They scrape off the make up
To reveal what’s within 

“In the darkest of rooms
This mansion holds
The deepest of pain
No one can ever know

It’s locked in the closet
Kept out of sight
No air to breathe
No access to light

The pain, it festers
The bitterness grows
It zaps all strength
And it takes its toll

The wounds lay open
Though nobody knows
Though healing is sought
The tension just grows

I want to know freedom
But I lost the key
To the door that holds
The deepest part of me”

So freedom is sought
A Light in view
To chase out the darkness
To see things a new

The journey will be long
Vision will have to be renewed
Moment by moment
Remembering His mercies are new (Lamentations 3:22-23)

And though the wounds hurt now
They will eventually be scars
Which show that both
Hurt and healing are ours 

Joy Lynn