Now, wouldn’t that be a nice way to go?
Carve those words on my tombstone.
No fear in death.
Because I want that phrase to mark my life.
That’s what I want to be true, really true, of me.
Choosing joy even in hard times.
Choosing joy when I’m overwhelmed.
Because isn’t choosing joy really choosing Jesus?
Because happiness ain’t joy, no ma’am.
“Happiness is two kinds of ice cream”…like a split-single in a cup
(half peanut butter fudge and half whatever-I’m-in-the-mood-for)
from my favorite hometown ice cream shop.
But happiness can change with the weather…like this long winter we are having.
When it snows on the first day of Spring, and Darling Daughter vocalizes the nagging question
that I’ve been secretly fearing, “Is it going to snow all the way through?”
But, Joy? It lasts.
Lasts beyond the fickle weather.
Lasts through all that laundry piled high all over, encroaching upon your happiness.
Joy? It gives.
Give you strength to push through.
Helps you see when your eyes are weary.
Joy is not Pollyanna hype.
Joy is what holds you together when you might otherwise fall apart.
Joy is that down deep reality that there is even more to life than this.
Joy is those small, everyday wonders that point you to the bigger picture.
Joy is being able to sleep at night…your soul being able to rest because you are covered.
Not just by blankets, but by His blood. Covered by grace, Saved and secure.
May the joy of the Lord (and all that He is, and all that He has done) be your strength.
And may it be said of us…
She is choosing joy.