Joy Comes

"Some days are diamonds.  Some days are stones.  Some times the hard times won't leave me alone."

If you're old enough to recognize these lyrics, you'll know they are from a song written by storyteller and songwriter, John Denver.

And for some reason, I woke up today with this song in my head.

I find that each day I awaken is a crapshoot in terms of my emotions.  I've been encouraged that this is normal.  That I'm a mere five months away from a life-changing event in my life.  That I should cut myself some slack.

But I'm a "pick-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps-and-get-on-with-it" kind of girl.  So I'm not so good in the "cutting myself some slack" department.

I woke up this morning, early, not by choice, but decided to use the time to sit quietly before the Lord.

He was silent.

Or maybe I wasn't.

It's most likely the latter than the former.

I awakened with a heavy heart for no particular reason.  Perhaps I dreamed dreams that bore a weight only my spirit perceived.  Even His Word, normally quite comforting, seemed like print on a page. And though it said, "the joy comes with the morning," I felt no sense of that; only a deep longing for the truth of it.

Then my morning beckoned me (and by "my morning" I mean two singing four year olds who had awakened at 4:30a.m. and never fully gone back to sleep), so I closed my Bible, sighed heavily, and headed upstairs to quieten the "morning" before it awakened my husband who worked most of the night.

I confess, I was quite frustrated as I walked up the stairs to their room.  Was there no peace to be found this morning?  And then I opened their door.

And the whitest eyes grinned at me in the darkness.  And the sweetest voices said, "Good Morning, Mommy."

All that to say, funny thing about the Lord.  Sometimes he uses what we see in the darkness to bring light to our troubled minds.  I love that about him.  He's a "teachable moment" kind of guy.

"And though the sorrows will last for the night, His joy comes in the morning." - Psalm 30:5

Day 70: What Really Matters

It's quiet in this little space I have carved out to be my home office.  Quiet is a rare commodity in our home these days.

I have one little twin off at Preschool, and her sister is in her room, finally sleeping after an excruciating 5 days of mouth pain.           


Babies should not have to endure that kind of pain, especially babies who have already endured so much.  (I guess technically  she's not a baby; she's a great big 4 year old, but she's our baby.)

Funny, just writing that out.  She's our baby.  Ours.

Some days, when I'm bogged down in the tornado of chaos that threatens to overtake my mind, I am reminded of the storm we lived in for over two years, and the beauty on the other side of that storm.

The adoption process is incredibly, incredibly hard.  And while our process was probably atypical in its origins, I doubt that the overall process was that different from most.

There were days when we lived with the threat that at any day their birth mom could come and take them away from us.  There were days when we were overwhelmed with paperwork and legal ease and court proceedings gone wrong. 

There were days when we wondered if we were doing the right thing, were the right parents, were too old, too set in our ways.  Would we have enough energy, enough time, enough love?

There were many long days and nights and weeks and months of trying to solve the psychological distress of our girls.

So many unanswered questions.  Truth is, there are still so many unanswered questions.

But the one thing that mattered all along . . . the one thing that matters today . . .

We were called to be their parents.  God created us for them.  Our hearts and lives are so deeply knit together that you would never know they were not born into our family. They are indeed, ours, in every conceivable way. 

It's easy to think these things when it's quiet.  And easy to forget them when life gets crazy. 

All that to say, a little quiet is good for the soul.  It helps you remember what's important.  It helps you remember what matters.  And what doesn't.

Photograph Courtesy of Chip Gillespie Photography
www.chipgillespie.com

Day 60: The Real Carol Jones

When I was little and would spend the weekend with my grandma, she liked to watch this show called, 'To Tell the Truth."  The premise of the story was that 2 or 3 impostors and one "real" person would sit on a panel and answer questions from a panel of judges who would then determine who the "real" person was.

Each judge would guess who they thought the real person was and then the host would say, "Will the real __________  ______________ please stand up?"


What in the world does that story have to do with the price of tea in China?

It's this. I think depending upon circumstances, personalities, events, outcome of events, etc., we are all viewed by different people in different ways.   The pastor at a church I attended often told a story about a friend that he'd had a falling out with, and how he was fairly sure that particular friend didn't think he was godly, or kind, or loving or any of the other qualities that others ascribed to him.

And yet pretty much anyone else who knew him well at all thought he was one of the kindest, most loving and godly men they'd ever met.  So how do you explain that the same man was thought of completely differently by different people? 

Same man.  Different perspective.

Like I said, we are all different people to someone.  And yet, we are the same person at our core.  And it's what's at our core that matters.

Most assuredly there are going to be people in my life that are not in my fan base.  (Just read my comments occasionally and you'll see that!)

And there will be people in my life that love them some Carol Jones.

And I must be careful not to too heavily buy into either opinion.  I cannot totally judge who I am by what others would say about me, good or bad.

I have to daily remind myself that God is the only One who really knows the real me.  And He is the only One who can accurately judge my character.

All that to say,  someday the real Carol Jones will stand before a Holy God who has seen me live, mess up, get it right, grow and change, and He'll know that the real Carol Jones is standing before Him.  Because He knows me the best.

Day 58: The Truth of My Reflection

My grandmother was a very wise woman, and I write about her often.  One of the things she said was, "you should be the kind of woman that if anyone ever said something bad about you, no one would believe them.'"  (That's a paraphrase, but something along those lines.)

Recently a friend of mine said something similar, and it reminded me of my grandmother.
I wonder what she'd be thinking these days.

I believe that I have lived a life that would say to people that I am a woman who loves Jesus, loves her family, loves her friends, and loves people.

But I also know this to be true.  I have not honored people with my words at times.  I have participated in gossip.  I have probably started gossip at times.  I have "vented" my anger, which in reality is often just another form of gossip. 

My list could probably go on.  Yours probably could as well.

And the way we conduct ourselves, the words we speak, the words I speak . . .

those things cause other people to formulate opinions about who we are.

And those opinions can be dangerously easy to believe.  Even if they are wrong.

This morning as I was spending time with the Lord, I wrote this in my journal:

"Lord, more than anything I want to care about truth.  It would be too easy, it IS too easy to care what others say about me.  But what I want to care about is truth.  Help me to see the things in me you want me to refine and let me easily discard all else that consumes my thoughts."

All that to say,  I do want others to see me as a woman who loves God and lives a life that reflects Him.  And the best way for that to happen, is for me to look to Him for how I'm doing.