Author: joyfuldomesticity

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The Light Shines!!

John 20:1
…it was still dark…

Darkness. I don’t know how long it has been dark, but it is still dark. I grope around trying to find my way, but I can not see any light. Even the early morning sky is a blanket of obscurity, stars hidden, moon unseen—dawn is not quite here. The garden is around me, lush things growing, dirt wet with morning dew, stones chilly at my touch. Everything hushed—quiet as death. The silence of grief is so loud.
We come with spices to anoint the dead, for He had been quickly buried. The weeping had been almost constant, yet eventually the tears give way to the empty feeling of what happens now? I feel lost, unable to see the One in whom I hope and trust. Is He there? If He is, what is He doing? I just want to see Him, touch Him, care for Him.

Psalm 39:7
And now, O Lord, for what do I wait?
My hope is in You.

What happens in the dark womb? The lump of dough? The wine barrel? The pantry?
Children grow, yeasts multiply, sugars ferment, even potatoes and onions sprout in order to grasp for new life. Life happens—growth happens—in the darkness.

A quick word search shows that light + dark shows up in the ESV 68 times, with glorious encouragement to be found there! We quickly find reminders that God is the One who separates darkness from light (Genesis 1:4), who uncovers darkness and brings things to light (Job 12:22), He lightens our darkness (Psalm 18:28), the darkness is even like light to Him (Psalm 139:12), He is—in fact—the One who forms light and creates darkness (Isaiah 45:7) yet there is no darkness within Him (1 John 1:5). And Jesus, the Son of God, is the light of the world who can not be overcome by darkness, who came to overcome our darkness with His light!

But darkness fell on Friday, and grief overwhelmed Saturday because our light was buried in this cave. And now I can not see what is happening in the darkness.

John 1:5
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

In a moment, I see the dawn begin. Grace upon grace, the sky’s black blanket lightens to a dark blue, then a golden halo suddenly explodes in the east—first, a sliver; then, rays that reach and flame and glow and expose. On the horizon now is light. Slowly, the darkness dissipates—the entire sky lightens, which lightens our eyes, which reveals what we must see. Rub our eyes clear of their disbelief. Blink away the shock. The earth shakes, the rock moves, the tomb is opened. The light shines!

John 12:46
I have come into the world as light,
so that whoever believes in Me may not remain in darkness.

Come close, peer into the hidden place where darkness has held my Lord, expecting to see His dead body lying in the shadows, still and cold and dim—He isn’t here. Glancing around in the small light of early dawn that barely reaches into the depths of the cave, eyes adjusting to what they see and what they don’t see—eyes falling on a pile of grave clothes, eyes move to a folded piece of linen that was set apart from the rest. Where is the body of my Lord? Who left this pile of His hastily anointed wrappings? Who folded this linen, setting it aside? How could this happen in the pitch black darkness of a cold, dank cave that held nothing but death?! Angels speak—angelic beings before whom we quiver.

Luke 24:6, 8
“He is not here, but has risen.
Remember how He told you…”
And they remembered His words.

Scrambling, trembling, glancing around. Trying to rack our brains to recall what the Rabbi had taught us, suddenly remembering His words and piecing together what He had been teaching us all along.
The angels a beacon of hope for those who came to the tomb in hopelessness, sitting in darkness and weeping in the shadow of death—in our hopeless, dark, miserable, lost place, the angels of the Lord bring words of peace, messages of light.

Luke 1:79
[He gives] light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.

We came in mourning, not knowing that the darkness of our grief would be lifted. We came to bless our Lord, not knowing that He was about to lift our burdens. We came before the dawn, and experienced the true rising of The Son—the glory of God surrounding us as the east brightened, the angels spoke, our eyes rested on the cloths in the tomb. Hope flickers once again in the hearts where despair had quenched, belief glints around the edges of souls earlier filled with doubt.

2 Corinthians 4:6
 For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts
to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

We long to do something, to care for someone, to do something tangible to make sense of our overwhelming intangible grief—so we come to the tomb to anoint, to finish with the fragile care of grieving women what had necessarily been accomplished so quickly by the strength of men two days before. And now not only in our humanity, but also in our femininity, the angels tell us of the risen Son—give us the job of going and spreading the news—engage us in the act of resurrection by arming us with Truth and filling us with Hope. We came in the weakness of distress and leave now in the strength of peace. The sky is bright now, the dew begins to dry and the birds begin to sing morning songs, as our feet swiftly carry us to the disciples—we sing and we cry and we wonder and we run! We are given the gift of sharing the hope and the light, of telling His disciples to meet Him in Galilee. And the hope that had died in our souls when He was crucified is rekindled now, in the faith that we are soon to see Him again, face to face.

Daniel 2:22
He reveals deep and hidden things;
He knows what is in the darkness,
and the light dwells with Him.

Like the women who first knew of Christ’s Resurrection, we too have been given the gift of sharing the light of Jesus which God reveals—the light of the knowledge of the glory of God—when we look to Jesus Christ as our Savior. He took away our darkness, has borne our sin, shows us the light that dwells with Him and lightens our lamp. Because He lives, and because His light can not be extinguished, we may now live in the light, rejoice in the light, hope in the light, trust and rest and believe in the light—where even our shadows and our hidden places are known, seen, forgiven, loved, and redeemed.

He is Risen indeed!

Psalm 18:28
For it is You who light my lamp;
the Lord my God lightens my darkness.

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Rest & Wait

Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid. So because of the Jewish day of Preparation, since the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there (John 19:41-42). They rolled a stone against the entrance of the tomb (Mark 15:46) and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone and setting a guard (Matthew 27:66). And on the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment (Luke 23:56).

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And so today on Saturday,
the day between the darkest death and the brightest resurrection,
we too rest.

And we wait.

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Saturday… Waiting… Where is My Hope?

Job 30:26
But when I hoped for good, evil came,
and when I waited for light, darkness came.

Hope is a double edged sword. Walking through Holy Week, we think along the lines of so many events… It’s so busy! Jesus Christ rode into Jerusalem while His people worshipped and called hosanna, He cleansed the temple and taught His people, He is betrayed by one who is unfaithful, He is perfumed by one who is faithful, He gives thanks even in the presence of His betrayer, He hands out bread and wine to His followers, He prays in solitude, He is captured and taken away, He is scrutinized and condemned, He is taken before leaders and stood before multitudes, He is burdened in every imaginable way, He is stripped and scourged, He is hung and nailed through, He cries out, He is forsaken, He bleeds, He dies, He is taken away, He is buried in the dark tomb…

Now what?

The time between death and resurrection feels so dark, so empty, so long. What is happening in this day between Friday and Sunday? What are we to do as we sit outside the tomb? And what is our Lord doing in the darkness, the cold grips of death?

I was asked to guest post for Olive Tree Bible Software’s blog this weekend, so to continue reading, click here…

And click here to see what my husband wrote a couple days ago as he shared with us a remembrance that the Lord’s rejection ultimately lead to our acceptance in the Beloved.

Ephesians 1:3-10
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places,even as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of His will, to the praise of His glorious grace, with which He has blessed us in the Beloved. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace, which He lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of His will, according to His purpose, which He set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Him, things in heaven and things on earth.

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He Bottles our Tears

Have you ever been comforted by this Scripture,
knowing that your tears are not overlooked,
and they are not even simply dried,
but they are bottled by the Lord our God?!

I know I have.

He keeps an account of our tossings, our wanderings~
He keeps our tears, as precious~
He writes these things in His book~

What a comfort to know that our sovereign Father is so magnanimous
that even the tiniest things are so incredibly precious to Him.

One thing I have done recently is make tangible little reminders of this
for those who are enduring suffering, grief, countless tears.

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(If you too would like to have tangible reminders like these, you can either contact me to make you some, or you can stop by next week for a detailed picture tutorial.)

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A Little Bit Broken

A little bit broken.
That’s how I feel on my best of days.

Rough around the edges. Stained on the inside—and sometimes on the outside. Cracked here and there, a chip or two gone missing. Things leak out, sometimes because I spill them and sometimes because I am incapable of holding them in.

A chipped teacup with some leftover flecks of dried out tea leaves nestled in the mar—parts of my story that rest mostly in these shadowy cracks. Add some water, swirl me around, and you will see my beauty mixed with my pain. Which parts are the most lovely is difficult at times to ascertain. The dark bits swirl around, and eventually settle on the bottom. Take a sip, drink the water—it is flavored by what came out of the chips & cracks that had been hiding, but it is the water that carries it to your tongue and that flows into you and satisfies the parts of you that were longing to be quenched.

I am useful despite my imperfections. Perhaps all the more because of them.

2 Corinthians 1:3-7
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.

 

The Lord meets me in my brokenness and comforts me. And then He gives me the ability—the empathy—to reach out from my own chippy cracks to meet others in this same place and comfort them. He gives Himself to me in a measure that is truly immeasurable, and then He makes my cup overflow so that I can give a measure to someone else. We pour into one another, often from the lip and more often from the cracks.

Sometimes I wish I were a perfectly kept, shiny, whole teacup without stains and chips, no hidden leftover tea leaves and no cracks threatening to leak little drips or big splashes. It gets messy—I like tidy. But I trust in the Lord my God, who created me to be His vessel, and He holds my broken self in His loving hands even now. (Psalm 31:14, 12, 15) Who is it that made me? Who cares for me? Who numbers my days and has already prepared the good works that I shall do? God my King, the Potter who forms us in His clay—who creates us, molds us, changes us, uses us, and even chips us—as it seems good to Him. (Jeremiah 18:3-4)

When I remember these things, I am reminded and comforted—all over again—that sometimes it is the chips and the stains that bring Him the most glory, that do the most to reach His people, that give me opportunities for greater good for the Kingdom, that make me useful and beautiful at the same time.

I am not meant to be left on a shelf. Beauty does not mean untouched, unchipped, unstained, unused. I am meant to be used for His glory, poured out for God’s people—after all, I am made in Their image, I came from clay, but I am a reflection of Him who poured out all of Himself for His people (Isaiah 53:12), and in the little ways He has prepared for me, I imperfectly image that pouring, that dying, that bleeding & brokenness. And that imaging and imitating is perhaps the most beautiful of all fragile things.

 

Brokenness doesn’t automatically bring us to the thin place,
the sacred place where God’s breath and touch are closer than our own skin.
Heartbreak brings us lots of places—
to despair, to bitterness, to emptiness, to numbness, to isolation.
But because God is just that good,
if we allow the people who love us to walk with us
right through the brokenness,
it can also lead to a deep sense of God’s presence.
When things fall apart,
the broken places allow all sorts of things to enter,
and one of them is the presence of God.
~ Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p94~

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Exercise of Faith in Suffering

Though the fig tree does not blossom,
and no fruit is on the vines;
though the produce of the olive fails,
and the fields yield no food;
though the flock is cut off from the fold,
and there is no herd in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will exult in the God of my salvation.

God, the Lord, is my strength;
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
and makes me tread upon the heights.

Habakkuk 3:17-19

I know this passage. I know it well. I have memorized it. I have memorized a couple different song versions of it. I have sung it in church before. I have clung to it through years of trying to have a baby but finding the blossoms & the fruit failing. I have used it as a frequent reminder that regardless of my physical situation, my soul’s stability remains unshaken — my joy and my strength being grounded in the One who created the mountains and the trees and the animals, storylines and climaxes and rainclouds, life and laughter and suffering and me.

But until last week, I don’t think I had ever gone to the length of putting my own fears, my own troubles, my own sufferings and shadows and dark corners by the means of words into this form.

“Though the _________________________________________________ and there are no ___________________________, though the ___________________________________________ fails and the ___________________________ produces no ___________________________________, though there are no ________________________________________ in the __________________________________ and no __________________________________ in the ____________________________, yet I will rejoice in the Lord….”

 

So when Mr. Palpant suggested, at our final Lenten lecture meeting last Wednesday, that we fill in these blanks according to the story we are each currently living, I might have (okay, I did) melted into a puddle of weeping at the table in the back of the room. Boy, did it ever hit home. In good, painfully sharp & cutting to the bones, Christ-be-with-me kinds of ways.

In your own path of suffering, of doubt fighting with hope, of walking with the Lord on the heights as well as in the valleys, passing by both sunshine and dark shadows ~ what would your own version of Habakkuk 3:17-19 look like?
This is what I came up with that night, and what the Lord has challenged me to claim with joyful confidence rather than with fear every day since.

Though the miscarriages continue to come and there are no more living children for my arms to hold, though the medical treatments and the prayers for life fail and the pregnancies God puts in my womb produce no more little redheads to nurse on my breasts, though there are no end to the longing in my heart for my family to grow in the home God has given us here on His earth and no more siblings for our children who beseech the Lord for babies in the beauty of their own childlike faith, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; He makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights.

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Break Bread

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The poor man may envy the rich their houses, their lands, and their cars; but given a good wife, he rarely envies them their table,
~Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb: a Culinary Reflection, p25~

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To be sure, food keeps us alive, but that is only its smallest and most temporary work. Its eternal purpose is to furnish our sensibilities against the day when we shall sit down at the heavenly banquet and see how gracious the Lord is. Nourishment is necessary only for a while; what we shall need forever is taste.
~Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb: a Culinary Reflection, p40~

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I do want you to love what you eat, and to share food with people you love, and to gather people together, for frozen pizza or filet mignon, because I think the gathering is of great significance.
~Shauna Niequist, Bread & Wine, p17~

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God never meant man to be a purely spiritual creature. That is why He uses material things like bread and wine to put the new life into us. We may think this rather crude and unspiritual. God does not: He invented eating. He likes matter. He invented it.
~C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity~

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True Friendship

Friendships are vital to the life of the Body of Christ. They warm the heart, rejoice in victories, and give empathy, understanding and support in trials. Friends are great to chat with and to have fun with but my best friend must be God and after that my husband. Nurturing the children comes next. These are the priority relationships that the Lord has given us, and these are the ones that we will have with us all of our lives. After God, husbands, and family comes the church. We are to extend hospitality to other believers, edifying each other. If our friendships are taking away from those priorities, then we have adjustments to make. Don’t let other people take precedence over your husband and children.
~Kim Brenneman, Large Family Logistics, pg91~

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True friendship is a sacred, important thing, and it happens when we drop down into that deeper level of who we are, when we cross over into the broken, fragile parts of ourselves. We have to give something up in order to get friendship like that. We have to give up our need to be perceived as perfect. We have to give up our ability to control what people think of us. We have to overcome the fear that when they see the depths of who we are, they’ll leave. But what we give up is nothing in comparison to what this kind of friendship gives to us.
~Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines, p50~

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Friendship is about risk. Love is about risk. If we can control it and manage it and manufacture it, then it’s something else, but if it’s really love, really friendship, it’s a little scary around the edges.
~Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines, p50~

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Hosanna in the Highest!

All glory, laud, and honor to Thee, Redeemer, King!
to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring.
Thou art the King of Israel, Thou David’s royal Son,
Who in the Lord’ name comest, the King and Blessed One.

All glory, laud, and honor to Thee, Redeemer, King!
to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring.
The company of angels is praising Thee on high;
and we with all creation in chorus make reply.

All glory, laud, and honor to Thee, Redeemer, King!
to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring.
The people of the Hebrews with palms before Thee went;
our praise and prayers and anthems before Thee we present.

All glory, laud, and honor to Thee, Redeemer, King!
to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring.
To Thee before Thy passion they sang their hymns of praise;
to Thee, now high exalted, our melody we raise.

All glory, laud, and honor to Thee, Redeemer, King!
to whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring.
Thou didst accept their praises, accept the praise we bring;
who in all good delightest, Thou good and gracious King.

Ride on, ride on in majesty! Hear all the tribes hosanna cry;
O Savior meek, pursue Your road with palms and scattered garments strowed.

Ride on, ride on in majesty! In lowly pomp ride on to die.
O Christ, Your triumphs now begin o’er captive death and conquered sin.

Ride on, ride on in majesty! The host of angels in the sky
look down with sad and wondering eyes to see the approaching sacrifice.

Ride on, ride on in majesty! Your last and fiercest strife is night.
The Father on His sapphire throne awaits His own anointed Son.

Ride on, ride on in majesty! In lowly pomp ride on to die,
bow down your meek head to mortal pain, then take, O Christ, Your power and reign.

Yesterday in worship, I got to say my son’s name a lot. Hosanna. His name means save Lord and is a cry to the only One who can save to the uttermost. The service began with the choir, pastors, and dozens upon dozens of children processing through the sanctuary with palms in their hands while we all sang to the Lord of His glory and honor, lauding Him with our praise. We cried out to Him beseeching Him to save us! And since we are on the other side of the story, we know with confidence that He is the Savior! He has saved us! He did triumphantly bear our sins and conquer death, saving us from the holds of those shackles! Amen!

But we are still in the midst of the story.

I sat there with my family, in the midst still of our own story of asking the Lord to save and preserve and give us life in place of death…
In front of us was a family whose daughter suffered a terrible cancer some years ago, and the Lord preserved her precious life, and there she sat with parents and siblings, with health glowing in her cheeks and hair and the saving presence of the Lord spilling from her eyes as she sang…
In front of them sat a family who buried another son this very week, the Lord saved Gilead by ushering him to heaven, and now He saves this family every moment by upholding them even in the midst of horrible grief…

I cried repeatedly.

Suffering everywhere I looked. Sometimes already redeemed. Sometimes not yet.
It is hard to wait for the redemption, and wonder whether we will see it here in this life, or whether we will be yet waiting to see it in the next.

And then the sermon came. And Pastor Sumpter spoke on hope & joy.
He said, so much of joy is bound up in hope.
How painfully, purely accurate.

Jesus came to restore the places where suffering and despair have reigned.
He came to save.
He came to give us hope.
~Toby Sumpter~

And so as we begin to walk through this week leading up to Easter, where we consciously focus on the work of Christ in His final days, I am also focusing on His current work even now as His Spirit continues to save and give us hope.

Romans 2:1-5
Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.Through Him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.

This week, I will be reminding myself day by day to be joyful even when I don’t know the end of the story. Because that is why Christ came. I rejoice in hope ~ and this hope is not bound up or settled on the things of this world. This hope in which I rejoice is bound up and settled on the glory of God. And because of this, because of God’s glory, we can rejoice fully! Even when suffering comes. Even when endurance is necessary. When character is tried, tested, affirmed.

This hope is not foolish. Hope that is grounded in God’s glory will not put us to shame. He died for me. So that I could have hope. So that I could rejoice. So that as I remind myself of these things this week, walking toward Easter, I will remember the joy and the hope along with the suffering and the grief. It’s the dichotomy of living the Christian life. May He give us the strength and peace to glorify Him this week through all of this.

We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.
~Toby Sumpter~

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Blitz Trip Grace

By God’s grace, the Holy Spirit’s fruit of patience and gentleness swell and ripen in these times.
God gets the glory for giving me the strength I need
to be kind to my children when I feel hurried or annoyed at the end of a very long day.
And in times when I let the Spirit’s fruit rot because of my sinfulness,
the Lord gives me the grace I need to apologize to my kids
for my hastiness, insensitivity, and unkind words.
Bedtime is a maturing experience for all of us.
~Gloria Furman, Treasuring Christ When Your Hands are Full, p111~

Other maturing experiences might be long drives in the car and blitz weekend trips that are so packed with fun busyness that naps & bedtimes kind of go by the wayside… So on mornings like today, I am extra thankful for grace, and am asking Him for extra measures of kindness, patience, gentleness, and joy today as we readjust to being home and as we reach for good things like naps & bedtime.

But man, aren’t weekend blitz trips with long car rides and occasions for grace just marvelous for the family!? Love it.

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