Joy Killers

Have you ever met someone that makes your day just feel warmer and brighter the instant you are around them?

Often called an Optimist, these folks look on the bright side of life, have a smile on their face, and have a kind word to share, no matter what their own circumstances may be.
 I like these people. 
I am blessed to have a choice number of these kind of people in my life.
It's terribly difficult to not let circumstances affect our moods and interactions with others. I'm constantly telling my girls that our emotions may be hard to control, but only we can direct our own emotions, no matter what state our life is at that moment.
But with all the baggage and battles coming at us, isn't it important to first identify the things that kill our joy? In order to change so that we can be someone's sunshine, bring glory to God, and just not be a miserable dud all the time, it's essential we identify the thieves of joy.

5 Things That Sap Our Joy:

1. Bad Relationships

We constantly warn our kids about the dangers of choosing the wrong friends, and yet, when an apparent toxic relationship comes into my own life, I am often quick to forget all of my own rules and suffer through it.
All relationships in our lives should encourage growth, support healthy and moral choices, and lovingly guide when we are taking bad, destructive options.
However, there are times when people take more than we can give, demand and manipulate, which in the end causes weariness and discouragement.
Now, there are relationships in our life that we have no choice about. Relatives come to mind. Though we may limit our interactions with them, set up boundaries, and maybe chose to forgo certain events, they will always be there.
But for those relationships that we CAN choose, the ones that steal our joy because our energy is being hijacked and our confidence is being snuffed out, can I just encourage you to really reconsider keeping that individual in your life?
This life is but a vapor, one moment here, gone the next. To waste our resources, especially the most valuable ones like time and strength on a person that does not give back to you the same, is not only wasteful but very unwise.

2.Busyness

We are constantly making lists, going to events, checking Facebook, reading articles, running errands, managing projects, and just doing life. Our hearts and minds are full of musts and nows. But we are missing the big picture here.
We were created to bring God glory by doing His will, not doing our agenda.
In the book of Galatians, when the Apostle Paul talks about the fruits of the Spirit, we see that joy made the list. The question here though, is how  do we get the fruits of the Spirit?
This is one of those circumstances in life when time,energy,and focus need to come into play. When we daily commit ourselves to the Lord, constantly being conscious of His presence and workings, we are living in the Spirit. (Galatians 5:25)
Making the choice every day, every hour, every minute to be ruled and guided by the Holy Spirit puts you in that category of people that gets to enjoy those fruits of the spirit, including joy.
Turning off distractions and recognizing that things which seem so important are not and should not take precedents over listening, waiting, and acting on what God wants from us. This is the "secret" to joy, though it is really no secret since it is plainly written out in the Bible. Doing what we are supposed to be doing and doing it with focus and full attention brings happiness to our hearts. It also brings peace and gentleness into our lives. 

3.Making it all about me

Am I the only one that genuinely gets sick of myself? Maybe it is just me, but sometimes I find myself having that inner dialogue and hearing the words, "Move on. Suck it up. Get over it."
Iphone, selfie, and "me time" are HUGE phrases in our daily lives nowadays.
When did service to others become degrading? When did feminism turn from equal rights for women into bringing your husband a cool drink on a hot day is simply derogatory? As a culture, we fight the idea of putting others first because, let's be honest, it's so much easier to think about yourself first.
I know it. I do it all the time. Every day.
But what if for a moment we think about fighting that urge and put aside what we want and look on others.
Now, I know there are some wonderful, self-sacrificing folks out there, so do not get me wrong. But can we honestly say that our average day is majority rule: others?
For me, I am not sure.
My comfort, my time, my energy are always in the forefront. And when those things get interrupted or inconvenienced, well I assure you my feathers are ruffled.
But then I think on those times when I have served without expecting anything in return. What was I feeling? Was I miserable? Was I depressed?
No.
I had joy. The kind that you just cannot fake. The pure, unadulterated kind that makes you walk around with a goofy smile on your face the rest of the day.
When we turn our focus outward, instead of inward, we find joy. 

4.Not asking

God is in the business of miracles. He loves to show His power, presence, and majesty on a daily basis. The problem does not lie within Him, but within us.
We are simply not asking anymore.
All too often, when a situation arises, my initial reaction is not to go to God but to ask a friend for help, read a book, or Google it. (I am not lying when I say that if the possibility of my Google search history ever got published I would find a cave and live in it for the rest of existence. Or, they would just commit me.)
When we fail to ask God to work, we limit Him. Seems an odd thought that we could limit the Creator of the universe, but it is true. He so desires to hear our request, to see us looking up as He does His work, and to hear our " Oohhs" and "Aahhs".
But we are failing in simply requesting a miracle. We aren't keeping our eyes open for his workings, answers, and blessings.

5.Holding on to the past

This will touch a nerve or two I am sure. but it needs to be said.
Time is such a bizarre and curious thing.
Our pasts have formed us into who we are. Life experiences affect our personalities, quirks, fears, and reactions. But this does not mean that our past is our future.
Sure, we want to hold onto the good and use that to hurdle us to the next phase. But when it comes to the dark, ugly closets from before, we want to quietly rock and nurture our wounds, holding onto grudges.
We need to let go.
Christ brought forgiveness.
Christ brought healing.
Christ brought resurrection.
He has brought so much, but when we do not allow ourselves to move on,whether by forgiving ourselves, forgiving others, or even stopping the licking of wounds by reliving them, then we stop ourselves from moving onto the joy of new beginnings.
I know that there is necessity, at times, to acknowledge past hurts.
I can not think of Molly without simultaneously feeling the pain of her slow road to death. There are brief moments when I recall the ache and loneliness I felt as a confused child when my parents were divorced. Intimacy can hurdle into something dark and ugly when suddenly, without warning, I recall the abuse I received as a child.
But I know that staying in that dark place for too long is dangerous and unhealthy. My joy can easily be ripped away from me day after day if I allow myself to hold onto the past for too long.

Dear Lord,
You created joy and happiness. We are made in your image, so I know that you smile and relish in the good things. But I so often get in the way of joy. Help me to be quiet and still as I listen to your words of wisdom. Help me to know how to spend my time and with whom. Help me keep my eyes open for the things that you are doing around me. And lift me up out of the muck and mud of the past so that I can enjoy, with happiness, my future. 

The Sanctity to Surrender

Think of your happiest moment.
Are you picturing it in your mind?
Perhaps it was the day you got that shiny, red bike you were dreaming about for months. Or maybe it was the day you shared your first kiss with the love of your life.
Was it the moment you laid eyes on your child for the first time and fell madly in love?
Are you picturing that moment right now?
So am I.
Although, mine may look like an odd choice to an outsider.
Trust me when I say, my first kiss with Peter was magical. I'm talking fireworks, red hot sparks, David Copperfield kind of magic.
And when I gave birth to all three of my girls, I thought my heart would explode, To think it even possible to make room for more love was inconceivable and then a new addition was added to the family and I realized my heart didn't make room but grew in depth, height, and dimension.
I've had wonderful family vacations, gone to amusement parks and on nature hikes. There were even some awesome evenings that I pulled the best all-nighters with my best friend. But none of these are the moments that come to mind at the moment.
My happiest moment started in the dark.
It was 6 a.m. and I was sitting at my dining room table with tears streaming down my cheeks.
Why?
Well to  really tell this story, I need to back up about 6 weeks.

Every morning I like to get up before everyone else and just prepare my heart, mind, and body for the day. A big part of this is reading my Bible and just chit-chatting with Jesus. I honestly look forward to it every morning.
Don't worry. I am not super spiritual. Most of my excitement is because I can spew out my hopes, dreams, worries and fears before anyone else hears them without being interrupted by little talkers. I also can just sit and be quiet if I so desire before the chaos really begins in the form of brown hair, brown eyes, and a mischievous smile.

But during days of late, my quiet mornings had transformed into a wrestling match with God.
I know. Very holy. Very submissive. Very... well, true.

God was beginning to turn my heart in a certain direction and I was fighting Him on it. I'm talking put-em-up-swing-duck-lunge kind of direction.
I didn't know at the time why, but God had been asking me to step out of my comfort zone of life and step up my faith. He wasn't offering details of what was going to come, but He was asking me to surrender myself to Him,which also included whatever was to come.
Do you trust me?
Will you obey?
Can you give up your expectations and just let me lead?
 Let me tell you, I was squirming. I know what stepping out in faith meant. It main fire, like refiner's fire. It was a time when God turned up the heat of life to mold and make me into something new.
  Sure, I love the idea of being shiny, beautiful, and useful, but I do NOT like the idea of having to hang out in a hot, uncomfortable place for a period of time beforehand.
But this is where I was. At a cross roads. Standing at that fork in the road, wrenching my head back and forth, trying to calculate which turn to take. Do I follow God blindly or continue in the way I was going?
 I wasn't doing anything outwardly wrong. I loved and served my family, taught in children's church, went to nursing homes to sing, paid my taxes, and even ate broccoli. So why would I need to change anything?

This is so true.
If we are not making steps closer to God, than we are falling further away. There is no standing still and being OK. This is truth for every single interaction and relationship we have in this life.

God wasn't satisfied with how things were going between us, even though I apparently was content and clueless. And since God is always the same and never changing, it was obvious that the problem was me, not Him.
So, of course, I submitted.
(Insert loud buzzer sound)
Wrong!
The creation (me) told the Creator (God) that I was just fine the way I was and there would be no more changes needed.
Of course this went on for a while. Six weeks to be exact. Hey, what can I say, I am thick-skulled and stubborn and will not be rushed.  Every morning God so tenderly poked and prodded my heart with the same request... trust, submit, allow Me to be in control.
I was beginning to get pretty miserable about the whole thing, really. I was perpetually exhausted, always on edge, feeling weary and just not happy.
Finally, one morning I woke up, worn out, unsettled, and wretched. I trudged to the table really dreading the same questions and giving the same answers. I wanted change, but I was scared to allow it to happen. I sat down, didn't even open my Bible, and started to get real...fast.

Lord, this is no fun. This is utterly miserable. I'm tired of fighting you, but I am fearful of what you are asking of me. Faith? I don't even know if I have any. But I know that you won't ask this of me unless you will supply what I need. I. Am. Done. I'll do it. I will obey and change and be all that you are asking me to be because anything that is ahead of me has got to be better than fighting you on this. Thank you for being patient. Honestly, thank you for not giving up on me. 

I found joy that day in submitting to God. 
So many people look at religion as a bunch of "don'ts" and a list of "dos" and it all sounds oppressive and rueful. 
And they are absolutely right. It is. 
But I don't have religion. I don't participate in the emptiness of trying to please a God through my puny acts of kindness and ritualistic performances. 
What I have is real. 
My relationship with the Almighty Creator is so much more than me trying to earn His favor. 
I can't. 
I never would be able to be good enough, smart enough, obedient enough to please Him. 
But you know what I can do? 
I can come in my frail state, lift up my hands and say, "Here I am. Do what you will. Use me."
I found joy that morning in the surrender of trusting my Protector. Following my Leader. Waiting on the One that makes all the appointments. 
Joy comes in trust. Trust comes from knowing truth. And Truth IS God. 

One call

So with this grieving thing, I am still learning as I go.
Having lost before, I can say that this loss is so much different.
I heard the quote that said:

"What greater grief can there be for mortals than to see their children dead?"~Joan Didion

I find this true. 
I am not belittling anyone else's grief. I'm just sharing where mine is today. 

So a I received an unexpected call this morning that shattered me and I haven't recovered yet. 
It was Molly's Oncology office. 
At first, I thought the phone call was an error. The lady on the line was asking for someone by the name of Long. I assured her that was not who I was and mentioned the name Little. 
There was my mistake. 
She proceeded to tell me that she had the wrong file open and asked if this was the family of Molly Little. 

What kind of sick joke is this?
I hadn't heard anyone but close family and friends speak her name. Why was this person bringing this up? Did they know she died? Are they confused? Am I?

It's amazing how quickly I became derailed. The phone call only lasted 30 more seconds. They were inviting us to a bereavement retreat for those families that lost their child. 

Ya, right. Last thing I want to do. Drive 8 hours and bring up all my feelings about how awful this has been with total strangers. 
I kindly declined, but before I even hung up I was already crying. I choked out my polite good bye, but I am pretty sure she already knew she had upset me. I honestly don't care. Seems cold, but it's truth. If my grief made her uncomfortable, well, there is really nothing I can do about it. Except perhaps take Molly's name off of their call list. 

I realize that I may come off harsh and mildly cynical, but I have my reasons. 
Grief is such an inconvenience. I wasn't expecting to cry today. I wasn't expecting to be brought back to the day they told me Molly was terminal. I didn't want to re-walk those hallways, smell the antiseptic, feel the tightness in my throat as I held back bawling just so Molly could have a simple check up.
But grief doesn't care what I want today. It shows up uninvited. Sloppy, messy, rude, and intrusive.
I plan on stepping out later and putting a smile on. Others will never know what's going on inside, because honestly, it's awkward.

Grief, you win today. I give into your demands. But only for a little while. Because know this, I don't intend for you to run my life and rule me. But I know that you are necessary and that you have a purpose, so for today, I will embrace you.

Joy

In a culture riddled with the indoctrination that you should do what makes you happy, feels good, and brings you satisfaction, it's hard to find the truth of what real joy really is. We spend thousands of dollars, hundreds of hours, and tons of energy on finding the secret to happiness.
A few years ago I felt the urge to study on the topic. Little did I know that I was only six months away from my joy being taken from me, or so it would seem. You see, it was in December of 2013 that I began to embark on the quest for joy. Looking back I find it humbling how much God was preparing me for the deep questions in my heart that would be coming. The whys and buts that would daily hang on my heart once Molly was diagnosed.
I began a list.
My questions at the top of my journal were:
Are we always supposed to have joy?
Where/how do we get it and keep it? 
Are there promises associated with joy in the Bible?

I desperately wanted these answers, because despite the healthy and yes, often times hot  marriage I was in with my best friend, despite getting to raise three crazy fun and exciting girls, despite having all the necessities of life, and so many more extras, I found often I was lacking joy. I was empty of happiness, though nothing was obviously keeping me from it.

Though we all go through bouts of sadness due to events, circumstances, and even people that suck the joy right out of us, it's good to know where our source of joy should really come from. That's where I have been recently. Discouraged by an ailment that I had no control over, I began to sink into an ugly hole. I hopped on over to my journals from years past and looked up my joy study. It refreshed me, encouraged me, and gave me so much hope..

What is joy, anyway?

I have this blissful memory from childhood that I have held dear for years. Very few memories are vivid in my mind. Everything usually is gray and blurry. But this memory is one of the few that is so clear that I remember the cold air coming in and out of my lungs, the smell of the snow, the color of the red sled in one hand, the green hose in the other, and the feeling of the crusted snot around my nose.
It was winter and my brother and I were in the back yard setting up the most wicked awesome sledding system in history. We had a huge hill in the backyard that steeply descended until you ended up at a wooden fence at the bottom. At the top of the hill, we packed up a high pile of snow and then proceeded to etch out a path down the hill with the sled. To finish it off, we took the garden hose and let the water run down our make-shift track. As the water ran down, it froze quickly and honestly, looked so pretty.

We were pumped. 

Being the good older brother that he was, J let me go first. Of course, I am sure the possibility of breaking a bone, slashing a leg, or receiving a head wound had nothing to do with his decision. (OK, now that I think of it, I am pretty sure I was the guinea pig for way too many crazy ideas he had. Maybe that's why he has never broken a bone or gotten stitches and I, well, have.)
I stepped on top of that homemade ramp, placed the firetruck red sled on top, jumped on, and flew down the hill. As fast as it started, it was over. I went so quick down that hill that I was most certain  there were sparks streaming behind me. Thankfully, the wooden fence was there to stop me from ending up in the next county.

I hit hard. And I am pretty sure more than my well-being, my brother was terrified of the repercussions that would take place if I was hurt. He ran up to me with fear in his eyes. But then he heard me laugh. More than laugh. I was hooting, hollering, giggling, and just full of life. It was the best sled ride I ever had, and even though I did it again and again that day, that first ride could never be beat.
This was joy.
Or at least according to the Webster dictionary. Pure delight, keen pleasure, and superb happiness.
I think this is why we constantly get confused and frustrated with the idea of joy.
Though Webster was a most intelligent man and I really don't know how he did what he did, we have to look deeper than the good old dictionary to find the true definition.
When the word joy pops up in the Bible, there are so many reasons people had it.
People had joy when God's Word was received in their hearts.
When the disciples heard that Christ was no longer in the grave: joy.
Zechariah had joy at the news of John the Baptist's conception.
After worship there was joy.
When someone is saved, there is joy.
Abiding in God brings joy.
Honestly, my list is so long. I looked up every single time the word joy was used.
Here's the condensed version.

You have joy when:
1. You see God working and have answered prayer. 
2. When the Gospel is received.
3. When you inherit the Kingdom of Heaven.
4. When you hear and receive God's teaching.
5. With worship.
6.When you abide in Him.
7. When you do His work.
8. Even in tribulations, there is joy.

Here's my challenge to you this week. 
I went down this list and asked myself which one of these I had experienced. Which have you lived and seen? Which have you known?
I found this an excellent starting point in really getting down to the real question: Where does my joy come from?
I know that I personally have learned that my joy comes from many different reasons, but One True Source.