THEY CAN'T STEAL MY JOY

THEY CAN'T STEAL MY JOY

Jesus tells us in John 10:10, "The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy..."
They can't steal my joy. This was something my husband often said and something he certainly lived.  I marveled time and again at Greg's joy in life. We certainly lived a full and busy, hectic and exciting seventeen years before he got sick. But even after he got sick, after all the bad news, all the treatments, the brain surgery, the recoveries, the near death experiences, the wheelchair, the loss of functionality, the loss of his voice...no one ever stole his joy. That was a gift given by the Holy Spirit and he held on to it tightly. He found joy in the kid's new stories every day. He found joy in silly tv shows we would watch together and he found joy in simply holding my hand and sharing the same stale room air that we breathed together because it was too difficult to move him somewhere else.
If you feel sad about that in any way, please don't. It was a joyful time. My bridegroom, though broken, was still with me and we enjoyed most moments together (I can't lie and say all - there were plenty of dark times, but even those were bearable because we did them together).
After Greg died, I let the evil one steal my joy so easily. And I don't mean that I was sorrowful or in grief; those things are natural. But the inexpressible joy that bubbles up inside just because we have the Holy Spirit within us. It was almost as if I put a mute on the Holy Spirit and His ability to fill me with all I needed. I wanted to be sad, wanted to be mad and yes in some ways, wanted to be miserable. Hello people!! My life was OVER or hadn't you gotten the memo? Yeah, my kids never received that one either and demanded that they had needs only I could fill for them. Thank God for His goodness to me in taking Greg while I still had kids at home who needed me. There are so many times I don't get God's timeline or understand what He was thinking by leaving me to single parent these budding humans. I'm pretty sure He got the memo about how crazy, I mean, quirky I can be. Surely He could see that there needed to be another adult to help me so I wouldn't completely ruin four perfectly good people. But of course He knew and His timing for me was a blessing. They helped me take back my joy in so many ways.
The other things that helped me fight back and take hold of my joy was getting into the scriptures and praying to God. I know you hear this from your preacher on Sunday, but it has been so true in my life. The Holy Spirit is there to lead and to guide. When we put ourselves in a place to hear what God is trying to say to us, by being in His Word and through prayer, the Holy Spirit has the ability to move in our lives. In Galatians, we are promised certain things from the Holy Spirit when we allow Him into our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Lord, please help me with this last one too!!) Joy is something that should be part of our every day; no matter what we are going through! While I know how difficult it is to be happy in the midst of grief, I believe you can remain joyful. Joy isn't dependent on the circumstances of life, joy is the abundance of God's goodness, grace and love in our lives. Why did I so easily give this gift away?
I left the end of John 10:10 for last because it's the best. "The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." Jesus wants you to have a full and joyful life - an abundant life. For me, putting myself back in close relationship with God has brought joy back into my life and I don't plan on giving it back to Satan anytime soon. If you find yourself in a place of helpless, hopeless lack of joy in your life, let me encourage you that it's not too late for you to take it back from the one who stole it from you. Pray and seek God, ask for His joy to fill your life and watch how God will take the tiny seed of joy and blossom it in your life until it's in full bloom! That is His desire for our beautifully broken lives.

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