I Call You Joy!

 

"And she said to them, "Do not call me Naomi; call me  Mara,"... (Ruth 1:20, NLT).

Dearest Joy:

I call you Joy, although it's not the name on your birth certificate.  I call you Joy because that's who you are in Spirit, to untold others, and to me.  Can you count the times your mere presence has ushered in spontaneous delight, whether or not you knew it? Do you? Of course, you don't.  You're too engrossed in loving, caring for, and cocooning others to tally. Among myriad other undertakings.   The ultimate caretaker of humans, your penchant for doing good extends to stray cats, dogs, and possibly rabbits squirrels, and other four-legged creatures. 

Now that I'm more aware of and attuned to Holy Spirit, I recognize how He arranged our initial meeting.  "For such a time as this" (Esther 4:14).  Duh.  We met sometime before my precious Courtney died suddenly and in fact, had grown our friendship through volunteerism.  Remember how you innocently invited me to tour a "Safe House" you managed for at-risk young women?  And I soon began cooking "Meatless Mondays" meals along with grief education sessions. Remember?

Nor did I have any idea that Holy Spirit, Who knows everything, had positioned you to be there after CoCo died to transport relatives from the Airport to hotels, all the while grieving with and comforting them.  An absolute wreck describes me then and long afterward.  You became the Rock of Gibraltar for Tracey, my older daughter, my sisters, and all who came to help, but received help (from you!) instead.  

I do know, Joy, that even boulders can be eroded by excessive rain, wind, and sustained force.  I also remember living in an Orlando (Fl) community during hurricane season when the ferocity of winds and storms toppled century-old oak trees.  In its aftermath, I saw them sprawled across the Midway, like conquered giants.  By now, my mind's eye sees you "pooh-poohing" or "tsk-tsking" what I'm saying, probably hoping that I'll run out of steam.  You know me well, so surely you realize I haven't finished! 

Yes, I'm long-winded.  So what else is new?  Even so, you are much too much valued and appreciated to settle for so little. You've earned thousands of jewels for your crown---but that's for later, Girl, much later!  God is the heavy-load bearer and our burden-sharer, not you.  My prescription? Rest.  Rest and revel in Our Father's eternal love.  Acknowledge that you've taken on assignments God hasn't given you!  Too many times. So much---too much--- has just about worn you threadbare and tired your heart out, Joy.

You're treading on God's Turf (it's all His Turf).  "Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.  Seek his will in all you do, and he will direct your paths" (Proverbs 3:5, NLT).  You're the "apple of His eye," according to Psalmist/King David.  You're the apple of our Father's eye, Joy, but you're not Him.  Stop perpetrating!  Anyway, your arms are too short to box with God.

You  did not stand on the edge of a black-as-tar-abyss and intone, "Let there be light, and there was light."  Take a chill pill, Girlfriend, and let the Lord restore your soul.  You're exhausted, Joy, as well you should be.  That's what happens when you never take a break, a day or a week off! Listen to the still, small voice of God as He counsels, "Trust and obey For there's no other way  To be happy in Jesus But to trust and obey."

                                                                                I love you, Joy.