A Vision of Provision

As most of you know, this summer, I got a seasonal job that pays well and gives great consistent hours.  I am very very thankful for the job’s provision, I like its responsibilities and most of all, I enjoy the co-workers I get to work with weekly.  The reason I went after a job this summer in the first place was financially minded.  I’d like to think of myself as a financially responsible person and prompted by a question from a friend, I sat down with a legal pad yesterday and worked out some money math. 

First, I calculated approximately how much take home money I will make this summer.

On the flip side, I also number crunched for some future expenses.  You see, since I moved up here to NH, I have had no debt and Lord willing, I’d like to keep it that way.  I try to save what I can and think ahead and budget for future known cost.  Within this next year, I have what I approximate to be at least $4,000 in dental expenses/procedures to look forward to.  Besides that, next summer, my passport (any opinions on card vs. booklet?), driver’s license and NH teacher certification expire and will require renewal.  These are infrequent or one-time cost that aren’t accounted in my normal budgeting for groceries, rent, gas, insurance, car inspection/registration….you know, normal adulting expenses. 

So just like that, on a single sheet of paper, I saw every single dollar I make this summer get allocated.

Kind of depressing, ain’t it?  With visions of having extra cash to splurge a little, I was brought back to the real world and tightening my belt up again.

Faith is complicated, you know?  At the exact same time as feeling a little bitter for working so hard with “nothing” to show for it in the end, I also felt so incredibly thankful for God’s provision.  What a contrast of feelings to cohabitate within me, eh?    I can look ahead and know I’ve got a lot of bills coming my way here soon, but those bills have “already been paid”.  God has granted provision ahead of time so that I don’t have to worry in the midst on how I will make ends meet.

Philippians 4:19 And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.

I am so thankful for God’s faithful provision and how He always provides at the right time, and to my hearts relief, often ahead of time.  I am not always at this place of sincere gratitude though….actually, honestly, I’m often not.  I’m often bound up in anxiety and enslaved to the idol of financial security.  Instead of seeing His faithful and full hands in providing, I am looking at my empty hands in longing….not necessarily for more things, but for more funds to feel more secure. 

But for now, I stand in awe and am incredibly grateful for how He so perfectly has provided ahead and behind me.  It truly leads me to the cross where His provision ahead of us is perfectly on display, as He paid of our sins and provided atonement for a debt we could never pay no matter how many righteous deeds we do or penance we paid. 

Isaiah 53:5 “But he was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed.”
Romans 6:23 “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.”

So much to be thankful for and yet always a reminder to continue trusting and growing in faith that He knows, cares and provides for it all. 

“Fear is the glue that keeps you stuck. Faith is the solvent that sets you free.”  ― Shannon L. Alder

“We must cease striving and trust God to provide what He thinks is best and in whatever time He chooses to make it available. But this kind of trusting doesn't come naturally. It's a spiritual crisis of the will in which we must choose to exercise faith.” ― Charles R. Swindoll

Here’s to continually striving to choose faith over fear.  Who’s with me?

Until next time,

In Christ,

Joy Lynn

Free to be me (Joy)

It’s almost March and I haven’t published a single thing in my blog this year and I am perfectly ok with that.  It’s a different season, and as seasons go, sometimes I write and sometimes I simply grow.  One of the last posts I wrote was titled “Help me to find Joy.”  I wrote it as a desperate prayer as I was grappling with a season of depression but I also wrote it out of angst, that for 28 years, my name has been Joy but often enough, I am accused of not fitting that description.  To be depressed is one demon, but to have others who don’t really know me accuse me of being joy-less adds a whole other enemy to fight because I already am fighting the lies in my mind and when others suggest, I take it as Truth and my mind begins to execute, judgment and fear, failure and tears, and it takes awhile before the smoke clears. 

But what if…..what if all along, Joy was right here?  I would certainly agree that I am quiet, maybe even aloof, but I promise you I am not shatterproof.  I can count on two hands the ones that truly know the deepest sides of me, but in all reality, that’s not the worst place to be.  I’d like to think that I am loyal, pretty faithful to the end, would drop everything if I could to be there for a friend.  I am a bit like Eeyore, quietly getting by, with a pessimistic yet realistic spirit and arguably pretty shy.  But once you get to know me, I can crack a joke or two, spout off a random fact, and draw out a life story too. 

So maybe you won’t see my face next to “joy” in the dictionary and let’s be honest, that would be kind of scary…….maybe I don’t fit the world’s vision of “merry” but if I may be quite contrary…….you don’t know the burdens I carry….the things I’ve been through, the hurdles I’ve crossed, the bridges I’ve burned, the people I’ve lost, so if I’m not the “Joy” that you seek, I’m sorry but I can’t continue to be enslaved to these chains of what people think I ought, be forced and trampled into a box, to be a slave to your opinion has left my heart locked in the stocks. 

So today, I declare, by the mercies of God, that I am free to be me, because it’s that freedom that He bought, the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, He simply took me as I am.  So from now on, I hope to be, no longer found in slavery, to others opinion of me, and just hope and pray they see, that though I am a quiet wall I may be worth getting to know if you are in it for the long haul. 

Until next time,

In Christ,

Joy Lynn

The Sacrifice of Time

This year (and really every year) for Christmas, the top of my wishlist was a hand written letter, followed relatively closely behind by hugs and boxtops-for-education.  I am a pretty basic kind of girl in my wants and thought my list was easy to accomplish because it’s wicked cheap and affordable compared to many other potential gifts.  Save your money and write your words/thoughts instead was what I said. 

But this season particularly, it has been abundantly clear that though my request requires very little money invested, it is still a hard gift for others to want to give.  As one friend put it in her letter to me this year, “A letter-a letter takes time; a letter takes thought; a letter takes heart.” 

It is much easier to browse a store, find a Joy mug, fill it with candy and wrap it up than it is to sit down with paper and pen and write a letter.  And I get it, I am a 28 year old anomaly.  I don’t have a husband or kids rivaling for my attention.  I’ve got loads of quiet hours to myself and can pause Netflix for a quiet moment unlike my friends who are still searching for the mute button on their own children.  Letter writing is not as much of an opportunity cost for me as it is for my loved ones so I try my very best to be understanding.  And I am oh so thankful for those who do take the time to write up personal messages on a pre-fab Christmas card or take up with paper and pen and write a hand written note to slip into an envelope to be sent on its way to me.  I even have students this year who put personal messages in their cards to me….these sweet personalized messages mean so very much to me. 

The thought…the intent…the words…the heart…..the sacrifice of time…It is noted and I am so thankful for it.  I am thankful for the other gifts and the pre-feb cards too.  They remind me to be thankful for the gift of friendships and human connections and to remember to keep in mind both giving and receiving languages of love.  I love receiving letters but I also love giving them….but maybe those who receive them from me would have been happier about a practical gift or a monetary contribution.  I guess it’s all a balance and finding how to be love someone else balancing “being myself” with “preferring one another in love” (Romans 12:10 & Philippians 2:3) 

But speaking of sacrifice, this is a time of the year where Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ.  I know you’d think more sacrifice equating with Easter, and it does, but I think it’s fair to bring it into the Christmas story too.  Jesus sacrificed His oneness with God to take on the flesh of a human and to be “with us” (Matt. 1:23).  His life and ministry here on earth took time, heart and thought as He poured into humans relationally, educationally, through healing and ultimately through dying, providing the only everlasting cure to the disease to which we all suffer being sin.  His written Word, the Bible took the time of several, cost many men their lives, and yet it remains a beautiful “letter”, if you will, giving insight from the past, application for the present and hope for the future through Jesus Christ, the Lord. 

So as Christmas is just around the bend, let us be thankful for the gifts that may be around the tree and the gifts of family and friendship shared across the board, but may we not lose sight of the best gift of all, wrapped not in wrapping paper, but in scraps of cloth and not placed under a tree, but laid in a feeding trough, so that He could come to this world to save you and me.  Thank God for His sacrifice for all time through Jesus Christ.

John 3:16-17 “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”

Until next time,

Merry Christmas and wishing you a happy new year,

Joy Lynn

Help me to find Joy

Sometimes I sit curled up in a ball, looking up, enclosed by all these walls…walls I built to bury me away, walls I built, to keep the curious at bay. 

Other times I stand upon a trestle high, looking up I can see the sky, but looking down to the cold hard ground, I see the hole where I’m often found. 

Day by day, week by week, I never quite know where moment by moment I will be, mountain high or valley low, some days fast and other days slow.

Roller coaster, can you subside, let me off the track and take a rest this one time, to find my footing and steady my nerves, to give me the courage to face the next few curves?  

Dear God, please, help me to be, steady and strong even when I am utterly weak, for I’m crippled and broken and used up, You know, so please, if You are willing, make me whole.

But if not, help me to be, at least able to deal with what’s right in front of me and give me hope and rest and lasting peace.

For I’ve knocked on many doors, but You must have the key, so help me find the Joy, that I was purposefully named to be. 

Joy Lynn

Hope to Remember and Not Forget

November 1^st will make 12 years since my mother passed away.  I was only 16 at the time.  That means that four years from now, I will be at the break even point of life where I will have lived the same amount of time (and then longer) than I had lived with mom present.  That’s a weird thought.

And I know that I write often enough about my mom and I know it may drive you crazy.  I promise you it’s not all I think about.  I promise you that I don’t live in constant depression over it.  But it does flair and there are definitely certain times of the year that it’s more prevalent than others and if you don’t understand, that’s ok too. 

I write to remember because one of my biggest fears is to forget.  There is so much I have already forgotten and so much that has to be spurred on by the thought/memory of someone else to reshape the memory in my own head.  Sometimes I wonder what’s true memory and what images I conjured up over time to fill the void of memory.

But regardless, the last few days for various reasons, I’ve been practicing the skill of remembering.  Remembering even if it hurts or makes me sad but remembering so that I can keep those treasured memories long term.

It’s interesting though.  Some of the sharpest memories I have seared into my brain are from November 1^st-8^th of 2003.  If you’ll bear with me (or you can stop reading), I want to list my memories because when I list my memories, I am reminded to count my blessings and treasure the people that came alongside the roughest of times.  (This list will be incomplete.  I can name names of those I didn’t get to specifics on here but remember moments and times you were there.  Thank you for being there.)

Saturday, November 1^st-

I remember coming home with dad after seeing the movie Radio in the movie theater (Dad, thanks for taking me to movies and football games and restaurants and making memories with me).  Mom was supposed to be out shopping but we soon realized why she was not.

I am thankful for our neighbors who were outdoors having a Halloween Party.  I lived next to a daycare so she had CPR training and rushed over to help until the ambulance/police arrived.

I remember arriving at the hospital and the small waiting room so jam packed of my relatives and pastor, there were no more chairs and I excused myself.

I remember calling my volleyball coach to tell her what I was going on.  I am so thankful for the impact that so many of my coaches, teachers and other faculty at the school played in my life.  I asked her to be in charge of letting the school administration know in hopes that the administration would let my teachers know so that I wouldn’t have to tell anyone.

Sunday, November 2^nd-

I am pretty positive we were in church.  Our house was inundated with food and flowers and gifts.  The support network of church and the school district that both my parents worked for rallied around us.

Monday, November 3^rd-

In my 13 years of public school education, I was only absent one day and that was in 2^nd grade because I had surgery.  I packed up my things and headed to school as normal….I needed some normalcy in my life and some distraction.

I got to school early (6:30ish) and hit up two of my normal places.

I snuck my way into the athletic locker rooms to put stuff away and the first person I saw that day was a coach who was beaming with a smile and she bid me a “good morning” to which I am sure I replied a dry “morning” to.  I knew she didn’t know at the time, but by afternoon, she came to find me and apologized profusely with her beaming “good morning” etched hard into her mind.  She didn’t know.

After this encounter, I headed over to the training room.  I was really tight with the athletic trainer and it was one of my favorite places to hang out.  I walked into the office and she was busy wrapping up ankles for the football guys that were soon to be headed to practice.  I knew she was busy but I wanted her to find out from me, so I found a sticky note and wrote a quick note about what happened and walked away.  I walked out and headed back towards the locker rooms but I maybe got halfway across the gym when she called out to me and bid me back.  A, you were a rock in my hard place and I am so thankful you walked me through that season and let me walk you through when you faced almost the same within the next year or so. 

Also that morning before school started, 7:15 or 30, I’d guess, I headed over to the counseling department that was settled in to the center of the school (financial aid and migrant counseling).  There were three women that worked in that area and I was close to them all.  I had spent a lot of time in those offices since I was a sophomore so I knew those ladies well and they were dear to my heart.  I sat in the financial aid office first just spacing, trying to figure out how to tell Ms. G but I didn’t know how.  All these women knew my mom.  My mom was a fixture when it came to anything involving me.  My mom was the one that got me and Ms. G connected in the financial aid office knowing that I was going to need all the help I could get for college readiness financially.  Anyway, I didn’t know how to tell Mrs. G, so I popped my head in at the migrant office and told the two ladies there so that they could pass it on because I just couldn’t tell her myself.  They told her and then nearly forced me to return home, but I am wicked stubborn so I stayed and they let me.  They kept a close eye on me though, as did many people.

General School Interactions:

My very first class on Monday mornings was Spanish 3.  It just so happens that October 31^st-November 2^nd is a Mexican holiday called Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead).  So of course, in my Spanish class that was going to be the topic of discussion.  I sat down and was writing notes back and forth with one of my good friends in the class.  I can remember it like it was yesterday.  I simply wrote “I lost my mom” to which she replied, “what do you mean, you lost her?”  As only epic timing would have it, as we were passing notes back and forth, my teacher announced to the class that my mom had passed and somehow tied it into Dia de los Muertos.  I looked at my friend and it was like a light bulb turned on so fast, it blew a fuse.  Speaking of blowing a fuse, I was peaved at how that news was handled.  I don’t know what I was expecting though…everyone would find out and yet I showed up to see it all unravel.

My English teacher wasn’t there that Monday so when she returned to class on Friday, the news of mom’s death was old news and assumed knowledge.  She was giving a writing prompt and someone asked her to give an example of what she would write about.  She then began talking about her own mother, who was 99, soon to turn 100 years old, in decent health.  She went on and on about how thankful and grateful she was to still have a mother as my teacher was a grandmother herself.  I felt sick so for the first time ever, I walked out of class.  I couldn’t handle it anymore.  It felt so very unfair.  I felt robbed.

As I was walking in the English hall towards the bathrooms, one of my former teachers stopped me to ask if my mom found me.  I was shocked and asked for clarification.  Turns out my mom was in the building the Friday before looking for me and she had asked my former teacher so he was just touching base.  I said yes she had found me and moved along.  He also later found me, hugged me and apologized.  Talk about epic timing but story of my life….

I got two postboard cards from people at the school.  Signatures and well wishes from close friends and people I didn’t even know.  Several hundred signatures filled up those posterboards.  As much as I muscled through those last two years of high school, I can’t deny that people didn’t try…I just built my walls high.

I remember my friends and teammates who just sat silently by but I was so very thankful.  They didn’t shy away because they didn’t know what to say.  Just stuck by my side.  I remember my coaches, bringing me into the office, letting me sit on top of the tabletop and just letting whatever happened happened.  Sometimes it was listening to me spill, sometimes watching me cry, sometimes asking questions, or speaking wise words.  Always open doors though.  Several of my teachers were the same way.  And as I said before, the training room was always a safe haven as was the counselors office. 

And then there is my family.  My wonderful family who rallied, supported, encouraged and mourned with us.  Thank you for your love, support, guidance, and prayers.  Thank you for as long as I was living down there, keeping up with the tradition of having birthday dinners on birthday months and keeping food and family close.  J 

So to the family, friends, acquaintances who knew mom and saw me through those years after mom passed.  I apologize for my selfishness in the walls I built and leaving them up for years.  But I thank you so much…for being there and understanding….for continuing to understand…for continuing to remember.  For continuing to feed me memories so that I can truly say, that though mom is gone, Hope still lives on.   

Until next time,

May the memories pile on,

Joy 

If we...

If with a bit of ink, a heart could be heard,

If with open ears, lines could be blurred,

If we let down our guards and stop building walls,

Maybe we’d be there to soften the falls.

We may never know how close they are to the edge,

But maybe through our investment we can build a hedge,

Because every soul is precious and just wants to be fed,

Truth and love to fight the lies that multiply in their head. 

Cut to the chase and see beyond the skin,

A kindred spirit may be lurking within,

So dig a little deeper and persistently mine,

Diamonds take work and are hard to find by design.

If we put down the paint that’s been making facades,

Maybe we’d be surprised, even if against all odds,

Every soul could be loved amidst the flaws,

Because though love is messy, it’s still a worthy cause.

Joy Lynn

A Teacher's Prayer (9/30/2012)

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank You, firstly, for being my Teacher,
Being a perfect example of the grace and patience one will need,
To feed Your children with knowledge,
While disciplining to keep the peace.

I do not do my job perfectly,
But every day I pray I’ll be,
A good example to my students,
Of a life consecrated to Thee.

I laugh, I cry, I get frustrated too,
Lord, I simply don’t know how You do what You do.
How do You feel when a child looks in Your eyes and lies to Your face?
Oh, I imagine I’d feel much disgrace…yet You give more grace.

Help me love these students You have entrusted to me.
Help me to point them to You and remind me to bend the knee…
Because I cannot change their hearts, and I cannot give what they need,
But for Your work in their heart and in mine, I humbly plea.

Amen.


Joy Lynn

A Journey by Foot (pictures included)

Many of you know that I had foot surgery back on June 26th to remove several plantar warts from my heel.  Some may be curious to see a few pictures pre and post surgery but don't want to ask, so this is how I have decided to share them as I don't want to scar anybody by simply posting it on facebook without the possibility of it being unseen.  It's not terribly gruesome I think.  I will post three pictures with plenty of space between so you can stop where you'd like.

The first one will be a few days prior to surgery.  Over months, one wart turned into a dozen but up until I saw a podiatrist early in June, I simply thought I had one wart and a huge callus building around it.  Silly me....hence the need to take care of the warts quickly as they were spreading rapidly.  

The second one will be what it looks like now so you can see how much it's healed up in the last month and change.  The new skin still feels tender but I am also trying not to baby it too much.  The last of the open wound drainage finished Wednesday, July 29th so it took a while for that skin to form completely.  Since then, I've gone down from lots of bandage and padding to nothing at all on my foot.  We'll see what my doctor thinks of that tomorrow...  :-X

The last picture will be of my foot the day after surgery.  It is the most gruesome of them all so I am saving it for last so you can skip it if you don't want to see.  I find it interesting to look at though because it's crazy to know how much that part of my heel has healed over time.  God is good and restorative in both physical aspects as well as spiritual ones.  Anyway here we go.....

June 19th, 2015

August 3rd, 2015

That white speck in what I call the "dime" is just the glare from the light, so no worries there.  

Lastly, June 27th, 2015, the day after surgery and the first time I had seen my foot.

So yeah, that's three time period snap shots of the journey so far.  I took a picture almost every day since surgery and that's fun to flip through and see how much it's changed and healed day by day.  

I can walk normally on it though the more I walk in a day, the more it feels tender over time.  I can run short distances on it but I haven't tested it with lengthier adventures just because I am not sure what I would do if that fragile layer of skin tore.  But day by day, it's getting better, the future is looking brighter and school is moving every closer....so I better get  back in gear!  

Thanks for those who prayed me through the journey!  I appreciate you muchly!  

Until next time,

Joy

Martha, Martha, Martha…..oh wait, wrong show…

When it comes to relatable people in the Bible, Martha is my kindred spirit.  Now I am may not be quite the homemaker or as practically hospitable as she was, but I definitely find worth in service and doing instead of being.

I don’t “be” well.  There are many things you could tell me about who you say I am, that I would never believe for a second.  But I will take your compliments for what I do because I can see tangible evidence.  It’s much easier for me to accept credit to the concrete rather than to the transient. 

Oh boy, that last sentence sure sounded self righteous didn’t it?  A whole lot of self dependence going on right here…  God’s Word says that “without faith it’s impossible to please God” (Hebrews 11:6) yet so often, I am not acting in faith of Him but instead presenting my service to Him.  Faith and works are a delicate balance with the biggest role being played by motivations of who we seek to please and also who we are depending on in the process.

Service and work is not innately bad and I imagine Martha wasn’t meaning ill will when she was laboring hard in the kitchen while Jesus visited in the living room.  It’s not that she didn’t care about her honored guest…..it was likely quite the opposite.  She *did* because that’s what *loving* looked like for her.  She saw a need in feeding the guest and was determined she must fill it or heavens, the people may go hungry.  She hoped that her service to Him would please Him, whether He asked for it or not.

There are a lot of people out there doing good things for God and sacrificing whole heartedly in hopes of it pleasing Him.  And hey, it totally may be pleasing to Him so if that’s what God is calling you to, do it with your whole heart.  But I do know that I am often guilty of serving God more than I am worshiping Him….that I do more for Him than with Him.

 This revelation explains a lot of the struggles I have had recently concerning my intended plans for the summer.  A week ago I had to have surgery on my foot and the timing of the surgery ruined my well intentioned plans to serve at camp.  I love camp and have been pleased that for eight years, I have been able to participate in some way in the ministries of CEF and serve God in that capacity.  It broke my heart to have to call camp and tell them I would have to pull out of being part of CYIA and Week 1 because for one, I love the people and the ministry there, but for two, I thought I was letting them down.  That with a man down, they would be scrambling and that they had somehow lost out because I would not be present.

It was quite the opposite.  They were overstaffed and the girls’ side was just kind of overflowing, so my absence was a non-issue if not a bit of a relief.  When I learned all that, sitting here on my recliner with my foot kicked up, I felt like I had been handed a big slice of humble pie.  They didn’t need me at all.  I know they would welcome me and were sad to hear that I couldn’t make it, but I wasn’t a necessity.  The show still went on, because though I wasn’t there, God was and He went to work in a mighty way.

Because I couldn’t’ be at camp, I resolved to pray whole heartedly for the ministry there and kept in touch with a handful on campus to learn of progress made and praised God with them.  Though I wish I could have seen it with my own eyes and experienced it myself, it was so sweet to hear how God was working there.

Through many discussions I had with God this week about my current state, it’s been neat to see how He has worked here too.  He took me out of the kitchen and laid me up so that I could remember it is all about Him.  He can work without me just fine….but that said, He also seeks to work in and through me.  He just wants it to be out of a right relationship and dependency on Him and not myself.  When I trust Him with my whole heart and follow His lead, the pleasing Him runs in the same vein. 

Until next time,

In Christ,

Joy Lynn

Security Blanket

I can remember back to a specific time in 2010.  I was at Christian Youth in Action and I had just finished my year of bible school and the camp director asked me to share something at the CYIA closing ceremony along with two other people.  I stood up there and talked about how after going to university and getting a teaching degree, I realized I loved teaching and though my students succeeded at standardized testing, it was making little eternal impact.  After a year of Bible school, I realized how I wanted to take teaching and use it in a setting where I could also speak from a Biblical worldview, model that as best as I could, and invite students to have the same relationship with God that I had.  The part that still sticks out to me clear as day though, was towards the end of my little sh-peel, I said “my goal had always been the American dream, graduate high school, go to college, get a job, be financially secure, retire and then die….and though I was on that path, I was discontented in that it would only serve myself so I wanted to choose a different path and sought to work in ministry where I’d get to do what I love, and though I may not get paid a ton and be able to save a ton, the opportunity to change lives for eternity would be abundant.  Sounds lovely dovey, don’t it?

Then a year later, I got my chance to put it all into practice.  Got a full time ministry job that didn’t pay a ton comparatively to the same job in the public schools but had lots of opportunity to dig and pour into students here in New Hampshire and I have loved it.  But guess what also happened along the way?  I still held on to that need to be financially secure.  In the last four years, I’ve saved every penny I could and heaped it into a pile (or technically account) that I call my “emergency fund”…..yes, I did take Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University back in 2009, so there…  That emergency fund is there in case of emergency…..saving for a rainy day because you never know what will come your way.  I spent most of the last six months teaching my Economic students that….it’s important to save because you never know when it’ll rain and sometimes when it rains it pours so it’s important to have your ducks in a row then, then have to scramble and feel your way out of the peril of debt.

And then the rains came…..

A few things have piled right into my lap that are huge monetary expenses.  Theoretically, yes, some of them I could work out to get on a payment plan to not have such a hard hit at first, but then I pay interest and then I’d be in debt and the only INTEREST I have is to NOT be in debt… 

But boy, to see the money flying out of my account makes my tummy churn and heart hurt.  I saved that money for a rainy day and then when the rains came and started to wash the money away, it felt like the foundation under me was being swept away too. 

I’ve been independent for so long, that it’s hard to see it go away because what if the rain keeps coming and it all goes away…what then?  It took years to save this and imagining it all being gone just takes my breath away.

And then I think of my friends who live pay check to pay check and leap from God-thing to God-thing….. I am always amazed at my friends faithfulness to God through those unknown times and in awe of the numerous way God provides in each situation moving them along from base to base and never abandoning them.

So why can’t I trust?  Is it because I’ve always had so there was no want or need to trust solely on Him?  Have I grown so self-reliant that it will take a full on tsunami to tear me down to the roots and start again only trusting in Him? 

I hope not….but what if He does anyway?  Will I be able to say as Job (1:21) said, ““Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return there.  The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord”? 

Maybe as much as I want to fight it, the security blanket must be ripped away so that I fully grasp that only in Him am I secure at all.  Maybe He wont…..but maybe He will.  I pray that no matter the outcome, my heart will continually say, Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Until next time,

In Christ,

Joy Lynn