Safety in Joy

 Php 3:1 ¶ Finally, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord. To write the same things to you, to me indeed is not grievous, but for you it is safe.

Chris died a week ago.  The picture of my mind, of seeing her on the ground, touching a hand that was so smooth and cool, brushing her hair--her face, peaceful, surrounded by leaves in her front yard.  I said good-bye--I wanted to freeze that moment.  I wanted to tell her more.  I wanted to tell her how much I admired and even envied her.  I wanted to rewind things and stop by for more beers, stay longer at family gatherings, I wanted to look her in the eyes so many more times. In my mind,  I am still standing there, next to her peaceful body, wondering what she would do.

I can try to fill some of her steps, but not her shoes.  I see part of her shining light coming out in new people in new ways.  Other's stepping up. Finding undiscovered strength that she had poured into them.

Joy is not lack of pain.  Joy is not lack of lack of sorrow.  Joy is knowing that pain and sorrow is not the ultimate victor.  Joy is not a feeling--it is raw strength to get through.  When your joy is a side effect of knowing Christ--it is pressing against the pain, whispering that He who is greater can conquer the grief.  He can transform it, but he does it secretly, in the background.

The safety in Joy is that it comes from outside you, comes inside you through a close relationship with Christ.  It has a life of it's own, warring against the infections of dispair and depression and hopelessness.  It is a part of God working inside you, working against the grief that threatens to engulf you.

I choose to rejoice in the Lord.  I choose to be grateful for Chris in almost 48 years of my life.  I choose to take up her example of blessing, her example of using her talents without fear or doubt in order to make things better for others.  I choose to Bless the Lord because dispite what I feel and see, He is good and will set in place all I need to overcome, and to see her one day.

I love you, Chrissy-poo. See you soon.