Sometimes the best
of us just needs a good whuppin’. I had
an occasion to feel like administering such.
I told my mr. off royally and started away on a pitty-party of hurricane
force. Then I heard my God say again
“This day is holy to the Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of
the Lord is your strength.” It’s
funny how quickly my anger and indignation melted. If it had been Monday or Tuesday morning,
would it have passed with just a word? I
don’t know, but I do know that by Friday, I was conditioned to joy. I wanted joy and not justice. Suddenly the infraction didn’t matter.
When I read about
the travels of the nation of Israel
Over the weekend I
had several chances to try out my choice for joy. I found it liberating and encouraging that I
could just choose to be joyful instead of offended. In my normal world, I
grumble a lot. Of course my mind says
I’m clarifying the problem or I’m working it out, but it comes down to a
dissatisfied, grumbling spirit. Yet for
that week God was a cloud of joy, protecting my spirit from words and deeds
that would have upset me before. He was
a fire calling me back when I was being drawn away.
There were a few
songs that ministered much to me all week.
The messianic group sang “Days of Elijah” and “Dance Like David” every
night that week. These were songs that I
was familiar with and they lifted my spirit in an unexplainable way. Of course, there were other songs that I
didn’t know and some sung in other languages.
But those two along with Hava Nagila were familiar. “Good Good Father”
was another. The other group didn’t sing
it, but I linked to it online and played it at key moments when worry or other
stuff began to crowd me. The same was
true with “No Longer Slaves”. There were
other songs that ministered to me, but these came back time after time and
spread joy to my heart and freedom to my spirit.
While packing up
to come home, I felt torn. During the
week I had learned so many things; I felt so many things. I didn’t want to leave the me I found at dawn
beside the lake or the me I found at the campfire or sitting under my simple
sukkah praising God for his goodness of the past year. I didn’t want to leave behind the idea of
visually offering my hands, my eyes, my lips and my heart to God daily in a
spirit of celebration and joy. I wanted
to be home with my comfortable chair and tall bed and jetted tub and yet I
didn’t want to leave behind that symbol of my vulnerability against the
harshness of the storm, trusting God for protection and provision. I didn’t want to leave behind the me that
turned from anger to honest rejoicing just because the Father said so.
This afternoon I
was becoming frustrated and overwhelmed; time and need were pressing hard
against my mind and body. I began
singing “Days of Elijah’ and another and soon I was working more smoothly and
stressing less. There are things I
brought back with me. I hope they are enduring
and remain new and useful.
As an addendum, I
see that God was there a month ahead of me. Planning and convincing me to come
to the celebration of joy even though I had no idea it would be a celebration
of joy. I see that God was with me to
make my reservations in a different place than I originally planned for a few
days. I see that God was in the
smallness of the first site to cause me to recognize the sukkah and hear the music. I see that God was with us in placing people
who understood and celebrated freely and robustly in proximity to our first
site to pull us into the celebration quickly and more whole heartedly. I see that he was with me in the transition
of camp to camp –teaching me and allowing me to ask questions. I see that God was the provider and protector
of the sacrifice I would make. What ever
else I learned, I am overwhelmed at my God who’s joy is my strength and who
wanted so much to camp with me for that week.
I thought I needed
to refocus, to get away from the stress and confusion, oh, but God . . .!
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