A Harder Rejoice

When was the last time you had a gut wrenching laugh? You know—the kind where you’re hanging onto your middle because you’ve become short of breath and your gut muscles feel as if they might split apart. I hadn’t had one of those in a lengthy time—but then I went to a Women’s Retreat where the theme of the weekend was Rest & Restoration. You may be envisioning a group of women at a spa, being pampered with massages, oils, while incense burns as soft ocean sounds infiltrate every corner of the room. 

That was not this kind of retreat. The rest didn’t come from sleeping either. In fact, I probably had less sleep than I’ve had in years. 

Delicious meals were made for us, which is a huge treat, and some very special women spoke transparently about their lives—some of them disclosing the hardest stuff while acknowledging how God helped them through that. Although restorative and thought provoking, that wasn’t how my rest came either.

The most restful part of the entire weekend was all the laughing we did. I didn’t know most of these women, but as time progressed I got to know them over the tidbits of their stories that soon culminated in us guffawing to the point of aching.   

As you’ll appreciate, it was decided that what was said at the retreat would stay at the retreat, but I would encourage everyone to seek out and attend one of these healing weekends. That whole package of fellowship is refreshing—and maybe even more because of what’s happening in my life right now.

I recently had a biopsy done, the results of which are taking a while to return. Although I don’t spend much time thinking about it, worry sometimes fights for first place—ahead of the peace, hope, and joy I prefer. 

Has this ever happened to you? You're awaiting something you have no control over--something which may or may not become life-changing--and your imagination shimmies on over to the more negative side. When my mind threatens to abandon even a small element of sense, I often turn to reading more of my Bible, hoping and knowing that I’ll find … something.

I know I've mentioned these verses before, but this time my thoughts took a turn. “Rejoice in the Lord always, and AGAIN I say rejoice,” as well as, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything give thanks as you make your requests known to the Lord,” was written by an incarcerated Paul. He was in jail, and not the kind we have in Canada. Roman cells were cramped, filthy spaces that held no toilets, and would’ve smelled accordingly.  

Since I know me, I doubt I would’ve been skipping around the cell block singing a pithy, “I rejoice in the half bowl of broth I was given today. I feel joyous that my roommates are rats. My body is covered in another crop of hives, but I’m happily scratching.”

I suddenly imagined Paul writing out Philippians 4:4 in a completely different way. I saw him with his fist and jaw clenched, and a fierce determination in his demeanour. More like: “I WILL rejoice in you always, God. And AGAIN I say, I will REJOICE!”

Perhaps that’s why he repeated it--AGAIN I say, rejoice. He needed to declare it twice, and he knew we would too. 

That may not read as powerfully as I pictured it in my head, but it spoke to me. It represents the strength God gives us—even when we’re feeling at our lowest. We can declare that to Almighty God, then give thanks before starting to whine out our woes and requests. 

I need to remember this today because, on top of the results of my test not being available,  I woke up with a hugely swollen eye on Monday morning. Half of my face still looks frightening. So, I’m saying it: I WILL rejoice in whatever’s happening behind this sore eye socket, and with whatever that biopsy says as well. 

I sound a bit weak in my voiced declaration, but I’ll keep saying it a few more times and hopefully gain confidence.

This month, whether you’re feeling great, ready to take on the world as you look forward to spring, or if you’re not—perhaps the bills have piled up, the kids aren’t listening, everything's aching, you haven’t had anything remotely close to a good sleep in weeks, or you’re lonely and not feeling loved inside the month we all pretend we should be … rejoice anyway. Even if you don’t mean it, say those words out loud. It may not fix anything immediately, but God heard Paul, and He hears us—maybe even more clearly when we’re yelling it to Him. Either way, He’ll hear, take it, and use it—and it may even serve to make us smile or laugh at ourselves for a few seconds. And, as it says in Proverbs 17:22, a merry heart does work like good medicine. 

Remember: God loves you the same—whether in your most joy-filled moments, or your very worst. 

What a Saviour!

God BLESS you in every way!

Pattie

CONGRATULATIONS to the WINNER of the FREE BOOK DRAW this month: CAROL B!