Our two older boys are adopted from Haiti, and the story of how God orchestrated that whole thing is incredible.
My amazing sons were two and three when they came home, full of wonder and questions and boatloads of energy. My daughter was almost two at the time, making us a family of five overnight. Three to five in an instant, and because they’re all so close in age, it was like having toddler triplets. I’ve heard stories from moms who’ve had multiples, twins or triplets, and they usually compare that first six months to being in a fog….Oh, yes. On so many levels. Crazy.Train. There are chunks of time that I can’t even remember because there was so much happening all at once.
One thing I do remember, however, is mornings. Because I’m like every other mom on the planet, all I wanted was more sleep. Just.ten.more.minutes…”please God, let them sleep!” As I would lay there, cowering in my bed, hoping, listening for any movement or sign that the end was near, most mornings would begin in a way that would completely disarm me.
My little boy would wake up singing.
In the wee hours of the morning, my little two year old would sit in his bed singing whatever song had landed in his mind. There were a few times I would just stand outside his door and peek in, taking in his sweet contentment as he started his morning, singing. Absolutely no concerns, just childlike joy. Interestingly enough, he’s still the same. Even now, eight years later, he is my boy that sings in the mornings. Oh, to bottle that sound.
As I think about the word JOY, as I try to describe it, that’s the kind of image that comes to mind – childlike innocence, absence of worry. Fully trusting. Singing out of the overflow of the heart.
What spills out of my heart?
I love this quote from Ann Voskamp, “no matter the jarring, a jar of fresh water can’t spill filthy water.”
What spills out when I’m shaken? When I take time to (honestly) ask that question, what do I find?
When I retrace my thoughts, what are the patterns? Do I see threads of confidence or worry? Do I mentally chase down answers in fear or do I rest in Him?
When I hear my words, what do they say? Are they filled with contentment or are they sharp, cutting? Do I voice a shred of trust in God?
What spills out when I’m shaken?
What If We Really Believed God On This?
I’m grabbing onto some verses this month and writing them out. How would my life change if I actually believed God on this one?
What would happen if we all did?
What you say flows from what is in your heart. Luke 6:46
Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Psalm 139:23
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14
Take an honest look at what’s currently taking up space.
Are you waking up in the wee hours of the morning singing? (it would be kinda awesome if you did.)
You’re probably not, but what I’m really asking here is what are the patterns of thoughts and words that follow when you do wake up? As your day progresses, what takes over?
In the next few days and weeks here, we will look at some “hows” on bringing joy back. But for today, I just want us to take some time to think about what we’re thinking about.
“I have told you this so that My joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.” John 15:11
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