On a chilly, fall day in 1969, Harry and Lila gave birth to a little girl. Their youngest. They named her Kimberly Joy and for the rest of that little girl’s life, she’d be told it was because they “thought” she’d be a bundle of joy. 😉
I never understood how something as close to me as my very name could also be the furthest thing from my heart.
If you haven’t noticed, I dragged my feet through this book club for Choose Joy. It’s the first one I tried here on the blog and had I known how much it would wreck me, and how hard it would be to embrace, I would have skipped it altogether. (Just keeping it real here. But I’m truly glad I didn’t.)
I don’t believe it’s any coincidence that I had this book in my hands through the month of April. I hate April.
The month has contained all the worst days of my life. I won’t go into detail but from the time I was young April became 30 days I’d dread each year.
It’s also the anniversary month of the deaths of my closest family members. All in April. My brother-in-law on Easter Day, my mother-in-law, my uncle, my sister, and my dad.
I didn’t want to finish this book because I knew Sara lost her life to her illness. I have enough people I mourn for in April – I didn’t want another. Plus, I felt it would be a slap in the face to Sara’s legacy if I didn’t change from her life. And if I didn’t finish the book, I could tell myself the last two chapters contained the magic formula for joy. No magic formula – no change required.
Somehow I felt holding the sorrow was honoring my loved ones more than if I moved on. Would moving on mean I was forgetting them? Would joy and laughter during April mean I didn’t miss them?
I’ve been desperately trying to hold on to the memories of those past, worst days because I wasn’t done with them. I had more I wanted to do back then, more I should have done and things I would have done differently. But holding those negative memories in my tight grasp can change the past just easily as my outstretched hand could grasp the moon.
So it’s been a month of letting go.
- I let go of Sara by reading the final chapter of the book and, with tears, mourned her as if she had truly been a dear friend. Her words have helped to change me and bring healing.
- I let go of the pain from personally watching the last breath of those closest to me by deciding to focus on the days lived well together.
- I let go of past regrets and failures, understanding the more I’m facing the past, and sinking in the weight of regret, the more I’m totally missing the present. Learn from the past – live in the present.
It’s also been a month of new chapters.
- My son got engaged and purchased his first house.
- My sister’s daughter got married.
- My purpose has become clearer to me.
Somehow through Sara’s words, I’ve learned joy is truly the only choice I have if I’m choosing to live well.
But the most important lesson is that I’ve been reminded of the source of true joy.
It’s not circumstantial, it’s not material, it’s not derived from others and it’s not even found in the laughter of my grandson.
The true source of joy is the only unchangeable, never failing, always present, always loving, grace-giving, indescribable One True God. And the road map to a life of joy is found in His unchanging Word.
When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your unfailing love, Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy. Psalms 94:18-19
God has breathed life into April again. There is budding, spring life happening this April – if I choose to look for it.
