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Friday, December 24, 2010

Finding Joy

Last night after I posted “Christmas,” I began thinking about how I couldn’t find joy, not even in knowing He lives, and therefore, my mom lives, and I will see her again. It was disturbing to realize how far I was from the truth of Scripture. So I read her favorite Psalm, the 91st, thinking perhaps it would inspire me to write or help me understand her better, or at least to process the feelings.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High 
 will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, 
   my God, in whom I trust.”

Mom made the Lord her refuge and fortress. She made Him her shelter, running to Him in the many difficult seasons of her life, especially in the last ten years or so, when she committed her life to Him in good times and bad. She wasn’t always a “good girl;” neither was I. We made horrible, selfish choices, and we came to know that we were, at our core, hateful, sinful people, full of ourselves and everything evil in the world. So she and I both know what it is to need a Savior. She trusted Him completely, and she inspired me to believe in Him as a powerful, healing God. A tiny ray of light began to shine in my soul, and this morning, I found an email from a friend that was a short and simple reminder of what the birth of Christ means for us, and through tears, the light began to shine brighter.

Jesus was born so that Mom and I would both have the Savior we need. He was born so that she would finally be happy, free of the painfulness of her life here, of the consequences of her choices and the deterioration of her body.  Born of the union between God and [wo]man, He was fully God and fully man. He lived, as we do, but was sinless, so that He could be all that we could not and do what we could not do: atone. He died, and He lives again, the first of many resurrected ones, and because of that I have hope. Jesus was born so that one day, I would see my mom again.

This isn’t the end of mourning, nor should it be, but I have found joy in the Season, and for that I am grateful.

Merry Christmas. 

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My Mom, c. 1967

My Mom, c. 1967