To live with joy

I've had the nicest day. Dinner is almost ready for two young couples coming to share it and another chapter of Vishal Mangalwadi's Truth and Transformation. I've turned off the news, turned on an album of soft Bach classics that are coupled with cricket sounds and rains. I'm sitting in the front hall where I've put one of the wing back chairs after putting away the Christmas tree. The lights are low. Very cozy. 

I've had the nicest day, waking but not rushing out of bed, nor to breakfast, but dozing and snuggling and listening to a few chapters of the gospel of John and asking a question or two of my theologian husband. Found leftover London broil to slice up which I fried with our eggs, along with a few potato wedges, chopped, some sliced mushrooms, a few grape tomatoes, and a half an onion. Two thin slices each of crunchy English muffin bread toast. A cup of coffee for me, a glass of orange juice for him. We ate our brunch on the back porch, enjoying the morning sun and the Florida warmth and feeling sorry for our friends living in the January temps up north. 

I've had the nicest day, listing my three main "wants" of the day, which have happily turned into "dids", i.e. begin the grapevine pruning, put away the Christmas things, and prepare dinner. And even had time for making several grapevine wreaths, a fair amount of facebook, playing with photos, writing twice to my friend Betty who is a newly rediscovered treasure from God.

She came out yesterday, while Cal traveled to Texas and back, to take me to lunch since our car is dying. We shared stories and insights, this older sister and I. And all the things in the past several days conspiring to confirm the lessons I am evidently supposed to be learning include even the radio preacher she heard on the way to our date. Returning to our house for coffee and cookie, I read to her Kilby's recent article whose message is the theme of this post.

Cal had left very early to catch a 7 am flight, but I never got back to sleep. Stayed in my bedclothes, ordering Christmas presents from bed (yeah, I know it was two weeks ago), chatting face to face with my Powell grandkids, and then a lovely hour's conversation with Becky. I only dressed once Betty called to say she was on her way. But no worries, it's what's on for today. I didn't even think about what else I might accomplish in the day until it was time to remind Betty to leave so she'd make her dinner date ("I haven't been kicked out of many houses before" she teased.) And then my eyes were too sleepy. Tried to nap awhile then got up to do more on the files and paperwork and reorganizing my "office" from 5-7, getting far more accomplished than I'd figured I could possibly do. But forget Christmas decorations. That will have to wait. This time, though, no feeling of discouragement or pressure that it the chore did not get done.

Here, the list of lessons lately learned to encourage my peace:

1) essay listed above

2) Cal's Christmas story observation about Zacharias who just MUST have long since forgotten his prayers for a child since he and his wife were now so old--that God remembers our prayers long after we have forgotten them that were prayed with such fervor and faith.

3) Marilee's sharing a similar but expanded observation with me from Alexander Whyte's biography of Zacharias--that God had intended to grant his request, but he and Elizabeth must wait until Joseph and Mary, maybe even yet unborn, were ready to receive the promise as well. What encouragement this gives me to sit back and relax while my kids finish growing up!

4) Monday's great frustration over the mess of paperwork/filing/life/technological changes/undiscoverable passwords and my nagging awareness that I was supposed to be dwelling in joy and resting in God, when only I was disappointed to not be painting at last and aware that I was missing a beautiful day outside. Anger led to depression and I wondered why God had to be so hard on me (little brat!). Went to bed early.
5) Tuesday morning's new mercies including turning at last as I'd intended, to pick up Amy Carmichael's Edges of His Ways in 2015. Mistakenly read the wrong day's entry from her discussion of Isaiah 64:5 "Three conditions, two assurances. If only we will be happy, work, and remember our loving Father, He will meet us in His ways, and those will not end in a blank wall....Many things end--hopes, plans, powers--but not the eternal leadings of the Lord our God...." As well as the Jan 6 reading from Psalm 31:19 (Rotherham) How great is Thy goodness which Thou hast hidden away for them who revere Thee. "We do not see it all now, it is hidden away, kept for a surprise of love." And a fresh spirit to accept the filing and busywork as God's desire for me this day. The day passed quietly and happily and finally, productively. But without pressure.

6) The other devotional I want to re-read this year is Through the Year with William Still. The item I read, again on the wrong day (Providence is a wonderful thing), made the observation about God's making all kinds of trees grow out of the ground--trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food "Note that pleasure in beauty comes before necessity of food. If it was a question of either/or, necessity would come first, but in an ideal world of super-abundant provision, perhaps pleasure is more important." This resonates with the Kilby essay. How shall I enjoy the beauty of God and of His creation (which in my world includes a tidy filing system) if I am pressed under by a self-condemnation and despair that come from kicking against His limiting providence? Though we live in a fallen world, we are redeemed now, to be living coram Deo now, so as R. C. Sproul has begun to learn violin which he will perfect in eternity, let me choose to dwell in beauty (for me that means gardening and painting and serving good meals as well as having an orderly filing system that makes us efficient) instead of in necessity (for me that includes knowing what is going on in the world; only let me not look long, for in my eternal finitude, I lose the beauty on which my soul thrives, forgetting too often that God is wise and patient and does things according to His order. And it includes knowing what work my husband, logician-analyst-warrior-teacher that he is, has been given; only let me let him do his work, and let me do mine in serving his cause by keeping our files efficient and making lovely meals for him, and staying to snuggle in bed, and being happy because I am painting and making grapevine wreaths to beautify the homes of my girlfriends.

7)Betty's car radio sermon, saying all the same things.

Back to this nice day. The guests are arriving, so I won't write more now.