The grief in it all

My dear friend Sarah has been living in India these past few months. She grew up there when she was little, and moved to America to be with her “home” culture and family again. But for a few months, she got to return to the land of her dreams, this time to teach at the school she was once a student. She has had an amazing trip, and is about to return to America again, where we will get to be roommates for another wonderful season.

In one of our more recent conversations over Facebook, we talked about the strange, interrelatedness of Joy and Grief. How she is so happy being where she is, in the moment she is there, but there is sadness with the thought of leaving. Sadness with watching others who were there with her, leave before she. I talked about the joy of being where I am, at my new school, traveling by bus and capturing well the culture of Portland… and yet my sadness still of missing Multnomah. Of not being an RA to my girls anymore. Or how much fun my life is, and how I am able to remember things about my Grammy… but she is still gone, and there is grief in that.

And so we talked and battled and concluded, though without totally victory, that Joy and Grief CAN co-exist. As a matter of fact, its not that they can, its that they must. In order to really experience and understand joy, we must know and have experienced grief. And to really have and experience grief, we must of had and experienced total joy.

And isn’t this how it is with our Lord? I imagine Jesus, while he was walking on earth, to have been the most joyful man there was! I mean, not only did he KNOW the father, he was part of the father. I mean, talk about joy right there. And yet… he was on earth. I wonder at the grief he must have experienced. When people spit in his face, and denied the father, and choose sin. The grief from being fully human, and experiencing pain, and loss. When Lazarus died, HE WEPT. Jesus wept. The most joyful man alive, was grieved when his friend died, when he had to leave the earth, when people wronged him. I wonder if his grief was deeper even than ours, based upon the fact that he had so much Joy to start with…. And like wise, if his joy on earth was that much greater, because of the depth of grief he had experienced.

Hmmm. Well, from these thoughts, I have concluded, much to the thankful aid of Sarah, that Joy and Grief must co-exist. And it is good. so rather than just focusing on Joy, and pushing out all other emotions, I am curious to see how other things play into this scale… not just the extreme opposites. So for now, this blog is about joy, but please excuse me if it seems to direct away… it will come back. Joy always does.

The Utterance of Joy.

At a Woman's retreat I attended last weekend (at The Well), we talked about brokenness. And how through broken dreams/ broken expectations, God can show himself the most! I thought about dreams/expectations that I have that have been broken, and how each time, the Lord has consistently proven Himself to me. And how, even though right now, I feel like I have things that are broken, I know he is moving.

I just changed schools. For the first time in my 18 years of schooling, I am attending a public school. Now, this might not be that big of a deal for most people, but... for this girl it was quite the feat to leave a school that new every one's name, to the largest University in Oregon. And I Love it!

When the Lord first started working on my heart about changing schools last year, I was so anti the idea. I mean, I had it all planned out. I knew what I was doing with my life. Kinda. Ok, I didn't really have a clue. But I was trying to control it for gosh sake! And besides, I knew what I was good at, and what I enjoyed. So there.

And that was my attitude. A terrible attitude to have when the Lord is asking you to humbly follow Him. The whole year, I was reading this book, called Hinds feet on High Places, by Hannah Hurnard. And it is about this girl, who is Much Afraid. The Shepherd asks her to go to the high places, to receive feet like the hinds. And she is reluctant to go. I spent the year reading the journey of Much Afraid. Feeling much like the story of my life was being written before my very eyes. And we journeyed together, Much Afraid and I. And I tried hard to trust the Shepherd that the high places would produce joy.

I didn't want to go to Portland State, because I didn't think I would enjoy it. I thought I would have a bad attitude, and have a rough time processing it. I prepared me and my closest friends for the worst. I felt like I was gripping the handle bars of my roller coaster, waiting for that huge drop off... white knuckled, the drop off never comes. I just need to trust that I am locked in safe, and enjoy the ride. And if there is a drop off, I am safe, so I don't need to clench waiting for it.

Last year was the best year of my life. I just loved what I did. I loved being an RA more than anything I have ever done. I loved living on campus, and some of the classes I was taking, and when I got to cook, and having my own room. I didn't know I could love life more.

And then this year came. Broken dreams and all. No, I am not an RA. I am not going to school with all my closest friends. I am not at my safe little school. And I love it! I enjoy every day. I love exploring my new campus, and being surrounded by people who are not just like me. For once! And having to walk blocks to get to different classes. And having homeless people on my campus. I love that there is ALWAYS someone to talk to if I so desire. And that people want to talk about things. I love more than anything, that I am in classes that I want to learn about. I walk away every day just flabbergasted that I get to got to school to learn this stuff.

I guess all this to say, I find myself enjoying my life in a way I never knew I could. More than ever, I wake up excited about my day. About my life. I go to a school, where I get to learn things that I am interested in. I enjoy learning and doing my homework. This is exactly how it is suppose to be. I live in this house, that I enjoy. Its yellow and organized and clean. And I live with these room mates who rock my boat every day. Squeeky voices and all.

The thing is, I have reason to have Joy. David Crowder has this song, called You are my Joy. And that's basically the song. Singing out loud to the Lord, YOU ARE MY JOY! And He is. I find Joy every day, because I am blessed to spend time with him. It is a joy to be loved by Him. He provides joy in the smaller things, and it helps that I am doing things that I feel I was created to do, things that naturally instill the emotion of joy in me. But if I had all these things, and I had not Him, true Joy would not exist.

To Enjoy Life.

I am commonly a person who enjoys the things I do. Now, I might not show that emotion to you, it might be hard for you to read me. But, if I am to speak about a thing, I am usually to express joy about it.

My freshman year, my RA was asking me questions, guiding me I think to ponder my future. She asked what I enjoyed doing. And I said, well, everything. I enjoyed doing everything that I did. I enjoyed cleaning toilets at my Janitor job. I enjoyed working with kids and serving behind the scene. I enjoyed being alone and having people in my room. But it got me thinking. Did I really enjoy all these things? Did I enjoy cleaning toilets or was I simply having a good attitude?

I began to understand that day that there is a difference between choosing to enjoy things, and naturally enjoying something because the depths of me was created to enjoy that thing. And I have been on, and am continuing on this journey of discovering the things that I enjoy without trying. This blog will be me processing through that. A look at my life, as I try to figure it out. And as I enjoy it. Come along on the ride with me!