Mountains and Majesty

My feet and bones are sore, every muscle I own is grumpy, but my heart is full of JOY!

I'm home from a jam-packed weekend with 30 other ladies, who traveled to the Smoky Mountains for a Women of Joy conference.  This year was extra special because my Momma came along.

Oh, the laughs we shared!

The conference was a first for mom - and many of the other ladies, so I stood in prayer for them.  I remember my first WOJ and how anxious I was, even if it was with women I knew and respected from church.  Never really being a "slumber party" type gal or having a roommate, those kinds of situations still tend to make me nervous. 

But as God does, he sends us hugs at just the needed moments.  We had a lot of those on our trip!  The first big one was upon our arrival.  Unplanned, we pulled into the driveway of our sprawling home away from home at 2:30 on the dot (Austin's jersey number and how he often says hello).  You could hear the bubbling creek from the car so, of course, that was our first stop before even going inside.  What we found were dozens of beautiful yellow butterflies, a symbol Austin has always used to send us hugs.  Needless to say, I entered the house a little teary-eyed!

We went down a day before the conference so it gave us time to relax, disconnect from the busy-ness of the world, and reflect on God's beauty.  I always am filled with a peace unlike any other when I'm in the mountains.  For me, it just feels closer to Him - and not because of the altitude!  In our free time over the weekend, we enjoyed lots of yummy food (too much!), a scenic drive through Cades Cove (mom's first) and a souvenir jaunt down the strip.  We did not do any outlet shopping and I was thrilled that my carmates didn't mind one bit.

The rest of our time was spent with 10,000 other women praising God and soaking up His word.  Have you ever sung Amazing Grace with 10,000 other women?  Truly, Amazing!  I get goosebumps still, just thinking about it.  So many moments in worship I was brought to tears in the sheer beauty of it, the privilege it was to be there, and the connection I felt to my Savior.

We were blessed to hear from admired writers and speakers, like Angela Thomas, and funny-til-you-pee comedian, Chondra Pierce.  Every speaker had a nugget of information and whisper from God for each women at the conference, I believe.  There were several salvations through the course of the weekend from the crowd.  Though every head was bowed, there was a sense of connection in hearing those words, "welcome to the family" and cause for rejoicing.

I scribbled notes in the dark when I could, as their words resonated within me.  The bad part was that I didn't record the speaker who said it.  So, if you're inspired just google Women of Joy and check out all the amazing women who are a part of it!  :)

As Satan does, he attempted often to spoil our weekend.  Months ago, he set to attacking Mom in efforts to keep her even from going.  He distracted and hissed, throwing up inconveniences and roadblocks wherever possible.

Our final night, both Mom and I were feeling a little weary.  The long walks to the conference, followed by a wobbly path on the strip, hustling to a concert (to catch the last two songs!), and lack of sleep saw us both in great physical pain.  So much so that going up two flights of steps for our prayer gathering felt daunting.  Though Mom would've done it, I could see in her eyes she really couldn't afford it.  My twenty-year younger body was screaming in protest so I could only imagine hers.  But I missed hearing the testimonies of our group.

As he so often does, Satan set to circling around me, trying to fill my heart with anger toward having so much pain.  Some of our physical issues are hereditary, though the majority of mine come from a motorcycle wreck ten years ago.  The devil loves to make me wonder why my God would put me through such daily pain and keep me from being able to move and do as I would like.

And I'm sure he would've wanted nothing more than to send us both to bed unhappy and second-guessing our attendance.  But I've learned that a sure-fire way to send him packing is by pulling out my Bible and standing in prayer.

So even though I couldn't join the group physically, I was there in spirit.  Voices above me became background music for my Bible reading.  And in their quiet moments, I would pray for whoever was sharing or might be in need.  In the end, our sweet friend who rode home with us shared some of the stories from the night.

Those testimonies were much needed fillers for the nearly 9 hour drive we would endure on our way back.  It should've taken half that time, but I guess when you have 10,000 people leaving one place, there's bound to be a traffic jam!

At several points along our ride, we were astounded at the hatefulness of others on the road.  Trucks tailgating and honking in areas we couldn't go faster if we wanted.  Fingers and curse words tossed our way.  But we didn't let it steal our joy.  Momma would throw on her bright red clown nose for a laugh.  At just the needed moment a fellow WOJer would let us weave.  And God kept sending us signs and hugs.

Now, I can't even recall most of them but, in one extra tense situation, He sent message after message, using billboards, bumper stickers and even an exit sign for "Trinity Lane" to remind us who was in control.

Dropping my passengers off to their loved ones, I returned home to mine.  Both of my guys had spent time straightening up the house and doing laundry and had a hot dinner ready for me, complete with warm from the oven brownies.  It allowed me to relax and soak up their company, sharing the highlights from the weekend.  My JOY was complete.

Faithful Friday: Jesus Water

Angela Thomas was our final speaker of the Women of Joy conference.  It was exciting to see an author in person, who wrote the book of our current women's Brave study.  This tiny woman has a fill the room type of presence and the love of God just spills out of her.  She did not disappoint.

In fact, her words resonated with me probably more than any other speaker over the weekend.  My notes were a testament to that, as they spanned multiple pages.  And yet, what she shared was so simple, it's something we should've known all along.

"The cup of your soul is where you long for eternity," she shared.  My soul echoed in agreement with her.

Angela demonstrated with an empty glass.  She described how each of us take those cups and search for someone or something to fill it.  We're disappointed when our spouse can't.  We're frustrated when our children can't.  We're let down when the "things" of this world can't.  But nothing of this world can ever fill that spot.  Our cups can only be filled with the living water of Jesus.

And with such visual beauty, she began to pour clear, life sustaining, refreshing water into the cup.  Our "Jesus Water" as she referenced, was the only source of our true happiness, comfort and support.  And that the more we drank from this water, the more of Him would spill out into every crack and crevice of our life. 

Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” -John 4:13-14

We only have to surrender to Him fully to receive it.  To put our lives into his hand, like a sponge, and draw from His never-ending well.  And yet, trust, or rather lack of it, often prevents us from doing so.

When life doesn't go as we had envisioned or planned, we question if He has our best interest at heart.  We doubt and sometimes think we can do it better.  We try to jump ahead and fix things.  It's the typical woman -and mother instinct- for most of us.

But God whispered something to me while Angela poured water on the stage.

He flashed memories of me pre-pregnancy, pregnant, and then the joy-filled moments when I held those baby boys in my arms.  All of us parents, before being a parent, loved the idea of a child.  We dreamed about what we might name them, happy outings we would have, and who they might grow up to be.  Those dreams grew each month, along with our bellies, and we ached with anticipation.  Our love grew too, for someone we hadn't even seen.

Yet nothing prepares us for the overflowing love that fills the room the moment that sweet baby is placed in our arms.  When our eyes connect for the first time and their little hearts beat outside of us.  How could there be so much love for someone you've only just met?!  Unexplainable - no words - kind of love.

That's the kind of love God has for us from the very beginning.  Before we even were...he loved us.  He sent his son to die for us knowing what we would be...someday.  Who we would be.  The ultimate parent, he fully knew and loved us pre-creation to eternity because he is all-knowing and all-seeing.  That's an unexplainable - no words - kind of love.

And just as our babies fully surrender to us for love, comfort, wisdom, and guidance, so will our Father be there for us.  Something about that picture makes me want to run, childlike with arms wide open, into the arms of Jesus, ready for him to fill my cup.

Therefore with joy shall you draw water out of the wells of salvation. - Isaiah 12:3

Simple Sundays

Do you remember Sundays as a child?  For me, they were simple and slow, especially at my Grandpa Coons' house.

Sundays were meant for church and rest.  And that's just what we did.  The most exciting thing was discovering whether or not Grandpa was taking us out to eat for lunch after church.  (Oh, how I miss those plate lunches at the Cadillac and the Kings Table buffet!)

As a child, I didn't appreciate rest.  In fact, many Sundays I probably complained, at least internally, from the lack of anything to do.  We'd come home from lunch and just sit around, maybe nap.  If it was during the school year, the afternoon meant a long drive home.  If during the summer, it meant hanging until evening service.

Now that I'm grown, I love nothing more than a peaceful Sunday.  Over time, I've learned to protect this day and try very hard to schedule nothing on a Sunday afternoon and even more so in the evening.

Quite time with God on Sunday morning, just me, my Bible, and a steamy cup of coffee before my family and the world wake up, is one of the highlights of my week.  For the rest of the day, a perfect Sunday includes Church, lunch, a glorious nap, more Bible study and longer journaling, and a simple evening with the family.  I find my moments with God, on this seemingly unscheduled day, are all the better because of my unrushed pace.  There are no other commitments, no expectations of my time. I long for this peace.  And I think my appreciation and gratitude of this simplicity has only recently occurred to me, or at least my realization has been heightened.

Sure, there are a laundry list of things I could be doing (laundry one those unpleasantries), but I figure I have all week to accomplish them.  I remind myself that even God himself took a break. 
               "and he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had done" Genesis 2:2
And as my sister, Angela Thomas, would say from the Brave study I'm reading, "I'm taking a Sabbath!"

Now, if I could just get the kids to appreciate this precious break....but it will probably take them as many years to do so as it did me!