My Shepherd

Here are a few thoughts that I jotted down while reading the 23rd Psalm.

He makes me rest because He sees how I've overdone it.

He leads me because He sees how lost I feel.

He refreshes me because He sees how much life has taken out of me.

He guides me because I can't see the way forward.

He comforts me because He knows the deep aches within me.

He protects me because He sees the dangers around me.

He anoints me because He sees me as sacred.

He is my Shepherd.

Throwing Cement

Every place we've lived, I've found a place to run.  Along the ocean in New Zealand, through the woods of Michigan, along the rivers in Moscow and Taipei.  A place comes alive when it's just you and the world.  It's as close to being a local that I can become.  Some of my favorite memories of a place are how I see the world when I'm running.

For the first time in my life, I find myself running with a group of people.  Up to this point, I have avoided this at all costs.  I am the slowest runner ever.  When I'm alone it doesn't matter.  I just trot along listening to a podcast.  Ok, I'm also not one to push myself - do I really need to break a sweat?  I love running outside.  The fresh air cleanses my mind plus I need to see that I'm accomplishing a distance.  Monrovia is the first place I've lived that I don't want to run alone.  I feel too vulnerable, too exposed.  So I run with a group.  They are amazing.  They keep me moving, one foot in front of the other.  And I sweat and gasp and feel like dying.  They never make me feel like I'm the slow one.  They accept my lack of ability without a care in the world.  But I love it and keep showing up for another run and another.

A few weeks ago we decided to run through the city and loop back around, following the beach.  Half the group was ahead by a bit.  The mid point was at the top of a small hill where we regrouped before heading down to the beach.  Rainy season is well underway which causes the ocean to be a torrent of emotion, throwing cold waves on the shore, thundering their danger.  A group of a hundred or so people were gathered at the edge while others scurried around the beach with some sort of unrecognizable purpose.  When the sun is peaking over the earth's edge, the beach is typically a quiet place.  There may be a few people at the far end rummaging through the huge garbage heap searching for a usable piece of clothing, but otherwise it's typically a quiet run with only our feet pounding the pavement and the waves pounding the sand.

I brought up the rear as we came down the hill.  My slower pace allowed me to look around.  Men were gathering sticks and breaking them into two foot lengths then running to the shoreline.  Others found chunks of cement and threw them at larger pieces to break off grapefruit sized pieces.  I came up to a man whose arms were full of cement and stopped to ask him what was going on.  He glanced at me with a crazy look in his eyes and yelled something over his shoulder as he turned and ran.  A few more paces and another man was carefully inspecting his cement pile.  Again I asked "What's going on?"  He stopped, looked and me and replied in clear English, "A man stole something and we are going to throw  stuff at him until he is in the water and drowns."  My heart stopped and time slowed as I turned to my friend.  "Let's get out of here!" he shouted.  A stoning.  I didn't see the man who stole.  I didn't see them throw the cement or beat the man with sticks.  I didn't hear cries for mercy.  But the situation sat heavy on me for several days.

They call it "jungle justice" here in Liberia.  People are desperately hungry, but if you take a bag of rice from your neighbor, you have taken food for them and their extended family for a week or even a month.  A pair of shoes may be a month's wages.  There is no punishement from a governmental system so people take justice into their own hands. 

John tells a story about a woman who was caught in adultery.  The Pharisees and teachers bring this woman to Jesus who is sitting in the temple court teaching a crowd of people.  She is probably ashamed and angry and embarrassed.  She's probably trying to hold it together as the Pharisees say to Jesus, Teacher, this woman's caught in the act of adultery.  In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women.  Now what do you say?  The Pharisees demand justice by their law but they're also trying to corner Jesus, making him chose between the law and the woman.  The tension in the air is thick.  Jesus begins to write in the sand but the Pharisees can't hold their anger any longer.  They demanded to know what Jesus will do.  Jesus straightens, looks them in the eye and says, Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her. (John 8:1-11)  

As I thought through what I had seen on the beach, one thing really struck me.  When the men bent down and picked up a chunk of cement, they committed themselves.  Rational thinking was gone.  There was a single goal - justice through death.  Not a single man picked up a piece of cement and reconsidered his next actions.  The look in the eyes of the first man I talked to was chilling.  He had made a choice and he would do what it took.  Jesus understood the commitment of picking up the stone and of being the first to throw it at the woman.  A path.  A choice.  A destiny.  There was a slight distance between the Pharisee's hearts and their actions.  Not a single one of them was willing to pick up a stone.  They all walked away.

When Jesus is teaching the crowds up on a mountain, He tries to get the people, us, to understand that what God is looking at is so much deeper than the law.  He's looking at our hearts.  Jesus says, You have heard it said to the people long ago, "You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment."  But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment.  Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, "Raca," is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, "You fool!" will be in danger of the fire of hell.  A few verses later Jesus continues, You have heard it said, "You shall not commit adultery."  But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. (Matthew 5:21-22; 27-28)  I saw men stoning a man on the beach that day.  It shook me up and has stuck with me.  But what about the anger and judgment I've had in my heart?  God knows when mentally I've bent down and picked up a piece of cement.

Back when we lived in the states Doc made a knife throwing board.  It was a great way to release a bit of energy and, well, throw a knife at a board.  He's been working on building one here.  I've had a lot bottled up inside of me lately.  Anger at situations outside of my control.  Because things are so outside of my ability to determine the outcome I began to blame people associated with the situation.  This is a slippery slope to go down.  One day I said, "I'd like to tape their picture to the knife throwing board and hurl a knife at it."  My heart had picked up the cement and hatred and bitterness wasn't just creeping in, it was barging in full force, pushing all bits of reason, love and light out of its way.  Jesus knew this danger.  "Don't go there," He said.

Probably none of us will physically stoop to pick up a piece of cement and throw it at a person. But how often has my heart condemned a person?  For me, it wasn't too many days ago.  When I find myself headed down this path, I start talking to Jesus.  I'm honest with him about all the hurt, anger, bitterness, unjustness and everything else that is going on inside of me.  Sometimes I yell.  Sometimes I cry.  When I'm honest with God, in some miraculous way, He takes it all away from me.  Not the situation and problems, they're still there and I'm going to have to walk through that journey.  He takes away the anger and hatred - the need to pick up a piece of cement.  

What's going on in your heart?  Have you been honest with God about it?  It's pretty simple.  Just tell Him.

When Thankfulness Went Sailing Away

Marshall, Liberia

I came home at lunch today looking forward to sharing a meal with a friend. The house was quiet and as I headed into the kitchen I realized that I had the date wrong on my calendar. A bit of disappointment clouded my heart but regardless, it was nice to leave my desk, stretch my legs, and get away for lunch. Moving from the kitchen to the table I suddenly found myself laying on my back in a lake of water. Slowly I stood up, droplets falling from my skirt and plunking in the lake around my feet. Stunned, I looked around. Water everywhere. I think a little sailboat floated by through the dining room, the family room, the entrance and out the front door. I sloshed down the hall and into my bedroom. As a little girl I used to pretend that my bed was a ship sailing in a sea of blue carpet. This is not what I had in mind, I thought, as I gazed at my island bed floating in the middle of the room. I could feel tears adding to the wet mess I was in. Of course this sort of thing is bound to happen while the doc is working - in another country. Thankfulness was not anywhere close to my heart or my mind. I think it sailed out the front door with that little boat. Sometimes it doesn't take much for thankfulness to leave my heart and unhappiness and entitlement to fill the space. 

There has been a wave of "thankfulness" efforts going through the Christian community. This is not a bad thing! Thanks to Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts, the challenge of living thankfully each day before the house floods is ever present in my mind. Of course I think back to the old hymn I grew up with, Count Your Blessings, and I realize that this idea has been instilled in my mind since I was a child. 

The opposite of thankfulness is a hard thing to live with. Think of that person who stops by your office each day with a nagging complaint, or the neighbor who sees the world through gloomy lenses. It's hard to live in a constant environment of unhappiness and negativity, but what if that person is you? What if you've seen all the negative in your life and the world and you can't find anything to be thankful for? How heavy that is to carry around day in and day out. It continues to drag you and those around you further and further down. Eventually all you can see is a negative answer to even the most mundane situation.

When your heart has gotten worn out and you can't see beyond the negative, you have to do something to change. You have to make a very conscientious effort to change the way your mind thinks. And this is what Voskamp is challenging you to do by listing one thousand things you are thankful for in a year. It starts small with one thankful moment at a time, written down so that you can go back and remember.

So after figuring out where the water was coming from and turning off the water line, changing my clothes and making a few phone calls for help, I made lunch. Inside I wanted to start sweeping the water out of the house, but I knew that if I did that I would twist myself into a knot of anger. So I made a sandwich, pulled out a chair which sent waves of water through the room, and I sat there in the middle of the lake, quietly eating my food. After eating a bit and letting the situation sink in, I looked around. I noticed that the water was clean. Thankfulness item number one! Then I began to ponder how if I hadn't written the wrong date on my work calendar, I wouldn't have come home for lunch at all and the water would have run and run and run. Thankfulness item number two!

After 3 or 4 hours the water was gone, carpets were removed, furniture was tipped on its side to dry and the cause of the flood was discovered. From what I understand, an old pipe for the sink had corroded and water was flowing from the wall.  It was a yucky situation to be in, but by this time my thankful list had grown quite long and joy bubbled out of me when I thanked the workers for helping me. I felt gratitude for the work everyone had put in to come to my aid that would have been clouded by frustration if I hadn't found so many things to be thankful for.

So make a choice to find things to be thankful for in the mundane days. I promise you that soon a not so mundane day will come your way and without having practiced how to be thankful, you will find yourself swept away with negativity.

In everything give thanks:

for this is the will of God

in Christ Jesus concerning you.

1 Thessalonians 5:18

May Your Enemies be Scattered

It's not often that I find myself wandering through the book of Numbers. It's a lot of counting and long, unpronounceable names. There's instruction and laws and disappointment and wandering. It's not where I turn when I need some encouragement or something to fill all those empty spots inside me. But Numbers is where I found myself a few months ago. 

At that time we were preparing to leave Taiwan. My emotional tank was at capacity. Work had become exhausting and lost purpose. The goodbyes left me raw and depleted. The prospect of summer and all there was to do didn't leave a space for respite. It was not my brightest moment in time. 

So during a time when I should have been reading a Psalm a day to give me a lift, I landed in Numbers. God had been giving instructions to the people of Israel through Moses on how they were to arrange themselves as they began the long walk to the land that He had promised them. There were special instructions for the Levites on  how to setup and tear down the tabernacle and tent of meeting as the people moved. Directions were given for the preparation of everything holy as the Israelites prepared to move. All of this must have taken a large amount of time.

The pillar of cloud during the day and the pillar of fire at night had been consistently with them since they left Egypt. God's presence in a tangible way leading them out of bondage to a land filled with promise. At this point in the story the Isrealites have been traveling one year, one month and one day since they left Egypt. That's a long time to be living in a tent - just saying - I didn't do well with two months out of a suitcase last summer. All of this instruction is before Moses hit the rock with the rod which began the years of wandering in the wilderness. At this time there is a destination and the people are ready to begin moving towards it. 

This story was resonating with me as I was preparing for my own summer of wandering, being homeless and moving. And then I stumbled upon it. Words that Moses said as the people began their daily travels.

"Arise, ADONAI! May your enemies be scattered!

Let those who hate you flee before you!"

Numbers 10:35

Each day before the journey began Moses called for God's enemies to be scattered. What would that look like for me, in this time of transition, to begin each day asking God to scatter His enemies before I even arrived at the destination? The thought was daunting yet didn't leave my mind over the summer. It kept rolling around urging me to pray that God would scatter His enemies before I arrived. That He would prepare a place of protection for me. 

The more I pondered, the more I began asking myself who and what were God's enemies? Of course there are the obvious ones - terrorists, people who harm other people for personal gain, even sickness. But I think that I struggle with the smaller, hidden enemies of God within myself - selfishness, judgment, greed, a bad attitude, bitterness... These are the things that become stumbling blocks in my life and tear me apart from God and people.

As I began this move I've prayed that God would scatter the physical enemies in my path as well as scatter all the little temptations and sins that bring separation between me and God.

I Am Strong: Finding God's Peace and Strength in Life's Darkest Moments

I Am Strong

Finding God's Peace and Strength in Life's Darkest Moments

By John S. Dickerson

A year ago a friend placed this book in my hands. We had just spent an hour together sharing our journeys through MS. She's been on this path longer than I, so I understood the wisdom of her words when she gave my hands a squeeze and encouraged me to read the book. I gladly took it knowing she was sharing encouragement that would travel with me.

This book has gone with me on airplanes where chapters covered the miles, the MRT back and forth to work where I absorbed a few pages, and in the safety of my own home where I've shed a few tears letting the truth and encouragement sink in. I've spilled my coffee on this book–not just once, but twice. My copy is worn around the edges, stained, wrinkled and bent. It's ok, because that's how my life is too. It sometimes feels battered and beaten and this is just the place where this book meets you. 

I remember sitting in the pew when I was young, my pastor greeting the congregation and preaching a sermon. Pastor Mark baptized me. I visited his wife, Anne, at their home after he passed away. I treasured the handful of times I spent visiting and learning from an older woman. Mark and Anne Dickerson were the author's grandparents. His father was my pastor though high school, sending me off to college and participating in my wedding. He greets me with a warm smile every time I return home. My most recent memories of Pastor Dan are sitting in the hospital waiting room as my dad went in for heart surgery. He was there for my parents and our family. Although I don't know the author, I was long gone by the time he came around, I know his family. I've watched them go through very difficult times and they've been there with our family as we've gone through difficulties. When I read the first few pages of the book, I knew that this wasn't just another pastor writing about how to handle difficult times in life. This book was based on experiencing those hard times. John has gone through extremely difficult circumstances and because of that, I knew I could trust his words. They were tried and true. The coffee had been spilled on them and they didn't fade away. 

We are going to face difficult times, there's no doubt about that. I think of the last time I read a few chapters. I was laying on the couch resting. The day before I had awakened with a sharp pain in my side. It didn't take me long to figure out that it was a kidney stone. The pain was so intense, I could think of little else. I knew I needed medical help. My mind only thought: pain, don't throw-up, taxi... Laying on the stretcher with a morphine drip in my arm, I could only think pain, pain, pain. There was no time to think, What passage should I read to encourage me right now? or Why is God doing this? or Where is God? We have to have those questions sorted before the traumas in life happen. During the trauma we go into automatic mode where what is tucked deep in our hearts is what's going to come out during the situation. The truths laid out in "I Am Strong" are the gentle reminders of the truths our lives need to be based on.

I'm honestly tired of reading Christian books or articles that are paragraphs of fluff with a sentence of purpose to wrap it all up. I like meat. I like the flat-out here is what the Bible says. John's stories and examples are the introduction to the solid, genuine Biblical teaching that I need. Every word is written with grace yet honest in truth. 

If you are in the midst of those difficult moments, or have walked through them but are still suffering the pain, I encourage you to pick up a copy and read it.

A Little Encouragement for Those Trips Home

I spent a few weeks this summer getting my girls settled in school and visiting friends and family. The few precious moments at home are filled with obligations, wants and needs. There are people to see, doctor's appointments to do and shopping to accomplish. Sorting it all out is like untangling a box of fishing lures. It's exhausting before, during and after the trip. Every expat that I've talked to goes through this, whether missionary, diplomat or other. 

I struggle with finding the correct balance every single time. I've done trips home with specific purpose and other trips where I have a more flexible schedule and freedom to spend time with people. We've lived out of suitcases moving from home to home every few nights, spent a month in a camper, and stayed with friends. Each option has its pros and cons and meets different needs. By far, the best trip home was staying in the camper. It gave us our own space to decompress each day with unlimited freedom to make our own schedule. Each evening we made a bonfire and unwound with a book or conversation and few roasted marshmallows. 

I think Paul from the New Testament was a bit like me. He moved around a lot. A group of friends  traveled with him from time to time, but he didn't seem to have a home to go to. He didn't return to the same place every summer to blow the dust off the cabinets, settle in and enjoy lazy days. His things were scattered across creation, stuck in the corners of friends' homes until he returned to use them again. There were the things he wished he'd brought with him as well–scrolls and cloaks that he needed in his daily life. He had times of loneliness and opposition. In all my travels, I haven't met an expat yet that lives as out of a suitcase as Paul seemed to do. I have it easy, yet I struggle with the returning home aspect that a transient life brings.

I'm also like Paul because I'm a communicator. Paul was always developing relationships, writing letters and encouraging the church. I don't write to churches, sending out encouragement, but just like Paul had his tribe of Priscilla, Aquila, Mark and Titus, I also have my little tribe of friends that I stay in touch with and long to see in my travels.

Since this last trip home, I've thought a lot about Paul's words in his letter to the Romans: "I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to make you strong–that is, that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other's faith." (1:11-12) 

Paul had a pretty specific goal in wanting to see his friends. It was a little give and take; he needed encouragement and he wanted to give encouragement. I love how honest he is about this. He was ok in saying "I need you, my tribe, to come alongside me and give me a boost of encouragement." He got that his friends needed a boost of encouragement in their lives too. Life is hard. We all have work day in and day out that we do. We encounter situations that are difficult and we have to wrestle through how to react to them. We can't do it alone, we need other Christians along side us to talk to and figure these things out together. We need some cheerleaders on the sidelines screaming "You can do it!" Paul needed to see his friends doing the daily life and choosing to live it God's way. He needed that sort of encouragement so that when people tried to kill him, he knew that he wasn't the only one choosing to live for God. 

This gives me a little focus as I think about home. I know that some relationships are going to fade. I don't live there anymore and I can't hold onto every single one. But how am I choosing the relationships that I do keep? Are they mutually encouraging? Are they a little give and take? Honestly, it's very easy to have the mindset when I'm home of take, take, take. I need rest. I need to talk to you, I need to go to this store... The list of "I needs" is endless. So how can I balance this? 

I would love to hear from you. Whether you moved 100 miles or 10,000 miles, how do you balance needs and relationships when you are home? How do you give and take? Do you return back to your place of living worn out and exhausted or encouraged and rested?

I Hugged My Dog Today

It's been a loooong week.  I become an emotional disaster with dogs–I really do.  I can go from complete sanity to monster woman in the blink of an eye.  It's a horrible thing to watch, it really is.

The Doc. has been away this week leaving the dog responsibility to our daughter and me.  We are in full housebreaking mode and I've been determined that we can conquer where to go to the bathroom.  I keep reminding myself that she is little and we've gone through this with all puppies, but that never makes it easier for me.

The week has consisted of peeing in the lobby, peeing in the elevator, peeing outside our door.  She pees while eating and all over the apartment.  She no longer piddles small, little spots but rather creates lakes that I inadvertently step in.  Thank goodness for tile floors.  I've washed the floors daily, often more than once.

She chased the cat and a glass shattered on the floor.  The turtle died.  Ok, that has nothing to do with the puppy, but it was pet stress none-the-less and I have no idea why she died.  I keep forgetting to feed the fish, fortunately it has not died.  I'm considering a trip to the market to secretly replace the turtle, but I don't think I'll have the energy.   Whoever thought I was capable of caring for animals and left them in my care??  The dog pooped in her pen and rolled in it.  Another morning she sat in it.  Our daughter has graciously given her the baths because she can see mom is close to tears.

The tears have come.  Then suddenly, early in the week she figured out how to poop outside.  Check one, the stress alleviated a little.

We set timers.  If Matcha doesn't pee when we take her for a walk she goes straight into the cat carrier.  I can hardly bare to see her sad eyes.  Mommas' hate that sort of thing.  In and out we go–the guards of our building must think we're crazy.  It's exhausting and there are moments that I want to say "Fine, the apartment can be your bathroom.  I don't care anymore."  But I do care and we continue with the training.  I can't focus on anything.  I function from moment to moment.

Then a little while ago our daughter asked if I had cleaned up any pee this afternoon.  I stared at her astonished, I had not.  Neither had she.  Matcha has actually gone outside on every trip we've made.  I'm shocked.  We went from 0% success rate with me crying on the couch to 100% success rate today.  So I hugged her.  I hugged her and danced and squeezed her tighter.  Fortunately she didn't throw-up on me.  I know tomorrow will be a complete reverse of behavior, but today was a victory and I'm still doing a happy dance.

Moments with Matcha - The Naming

We are the worst at picking names.  Think about it, our cat in Moscow was Koshka or cat in Russian.  The cat we got in Taipei is Mao, or cat in Chinese.  Mao was also a controversial dictator whom our cat actually believes she was named after and she is doing everything she can to live up to the name.  We should have just gone with Hitler.

As soon as we decided to get a dog and narrowed down the breed, we began to ask, "what will we name her?"  We needed a head start.  Lot's of time was spent at the dinner table discussing names.  I laid on Elena's bed brainstorming good ideas with her.  

What cities do we love?  St. Petersburg - St. Pete is a great name!  Wellington - Welly!  Luca - LuLu!

I looked through lists online of dog names - There were no contenders there.  

Do we have favorite literary characters?  Anne - no human names.  Sherlock - too trendy.

Spanish words kept popping up - Chica, Ita?  

I thought that when we got our little dog we would be inspired in unison and a name would quickly settle upon us.  Nope.  We struggled.  She is cute with bright blue eyes and a floppy ear.  Patches of black and grey spot her coat.  She has a sweet personality and is loyal and trusting, but nothing seemed right.  The doc. commented that she looked like an opossum.  Mrs. Possum?  Pogo?  Other people commented that she has a pig-look about her - Wilbur?

We sort of wanted an Asian sounding name like Xiao long bao (dumplings), but that really doesn't roll off the tongue.

One night Elena said "That's it!  Tomorrow we have to have a name!"  I don't know, Puppy and Baby were working just fine for me.  We narrowed it down to Pogo (a possum in an old comic strip) and Matcha.

Back and forth we went.  We actually decided upon Pogo, but that only lasted a day.  None of us had ever seen the comic so there was just no sentimental association.  In the end, Matcha stuck.

What is Matcha?  It's a special green tea ground into a very fine green powder.  Think lime green.  Here in Taiwan there seem to be two favorite flavors of desserts - red bean paste (a name considered that just seemed rather clunky when calling a dog) and matcha.  Matcha is bitter and something that constantly surprises us.  Matcha donuts?  Matcha frosting?  Matcha frappuccinos (yes, it's really a Starbucks thing here)?

When we're out an about with our puppy, strangers want to pet her and inevitably ask her name.  Matcha?  Why did you name her green tea?  Even here at work, the locals just don't get the name.  And I get it.  If a foreigner got a dog in London and named it High Tea at Noon, it would make no sense to an English speaker.  But this name achieves everything we wanted.  It's cute and two syllables.  It's unique and most importantly, the name Matcha brings our family's memories right back here to Taiwan. This is where she's from and she's part of a great package of the moments that make these years unique and special.

Moments with Matcha

The house has taken on a rather flat, silent routine.  We work and go to school during the day and at night my daughter studies, the doc reads and I tidy up.  It's a comforting routine, but lacking the spark that Carbon brought to our home.  

Because I'm the one who's not keen on animals, I broke the ice and commented that maybe we should get a dog again.  Within a matter of hours, research had been done and the search had begun.  With a little (or a lot) of help from the nurses, litters of puppies were found down in Kaohsiung.  The timing was right, it was the beginning of the Chinese New Year holiday, so we had a bit of extra time to devote to the dog search and find.  

We decided on a Border Collie.  Not too big, but big enough to run with us and hopefully be a bit of a deterrent as we wander around foreign cities that become our home.  Because this breeder had litters to choose from, born every four weeks, we knew it was going to be more of a puppy mill.  I've always wondered exactly what a puppy mill is.  People talk about them with such distaste.  Now I know.  

We took the MRT to the end of the line then got in a taxi to a medium sized property in a remote neighborhood.  The driver stopped and asked several neighbors where the house was.  I never understand what's going on in these conversations.  Isn't it rather simple?  "Where's the house that has all the dogs?"  Yet we drove back and forth between a stretch of about five houses, with long conversations along the way.  We finally arrived at the correct house - the one with all the empty dog cages in the driveway - duh.  

I felt at ease because there was no dog stench in the air and I couldn't hear any dogs.  Then the owner walked through the door and a secluded courtyard where the adult dogs were.  He greeted us and pulled out a computer.  No English was spoken, we just waved our hands a lot.  He opened the screen and began scrolling through puppies.  We picked some numbers next to the photos.  We had no clue what we were doing.  He disappeared back through the mesh covered gate.  The dogs began barking. How did the neighbors not know this place existed?  We were not in the country, these were like 1/2 acre lots with large cement homes.  I took this opportunity to peek through the mesh.  Inside the courtyard were 25-30 adult dogs.  They didn't look unhealthy, maybe they needed a bath, but it wasn't awful.  It was clean in there too.  That counts for a lot in my book - the whole "cleanliness is next to godliness" thing.  

The owner reappeared with laundry baskets full of puppies ranging from 1 week to 16 weeks old.  We picked them up and cuddled them.  We watched them to see how they interacted.  Truth be told, my  favorite was the male who walked all over everyone else, and pulled himself up the sides of the crate.  He was an ambitious climber, full of energy.  He had so much personality!  There was a cute one with  a patch of black on one eye.  In the end, we decided on a 6 week old little girl.  We missed the tiny puppy stage with Carbon.  He was 5 1/2 months old when we got him.  We decided a girl would be smaller, thus better for all the moving we do and she was cuddly and quiet - what we need for apartment living.

Her first day with us was rather traumatic I think.  We put her in our cat carrier, took a taxi to the MRT, then the MRT back into Kaohsiung.  I gathered her in my arms and carried her through the city.  The doc. warned me of every curb and bump.  He held my elbow at moments to be sure I didn't stumble.  We had dumplings for lunch then got the train back to Taipei.  Settled back in our apartment, we are a mom and a dad again.  We are looking forward to this next gig!  Welcome to our home little girl.

When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade

Why do I think it's going to work out getting my hair done by someone who doesn't speak English?  I do this to myself all the time!  Why do I tempt fate?  When will I learn?  I typically take a picture into a salon and then sit there while they do their thing to my hair, fiddling my thumbs and worrying about what's happening.  Typically I walk out a bit disappointed, but able to deal with the cut and color.  The next time I try a different salon.  Yeah, I ask around and try other places that people like but I'm never completely happy with the results.  It takes me at least a year in a country to half-heartedly settle on a place.  Why can't I just bring my stylist from Hudsonville with me?  I've never left her chair unhappy!

My hair has been past the point of needing freshening up for awhile now.  With no trip home in sight to get a proper job done, I made an appointment at a nearby salon I knew others had used.  I walked in with a photo of the color I wanted.  I even picked a famous person thinking maybe a little background in this celebrity's hair history would be helpful.  The stylist glanced at the photo and began mixing chemicals.  I immediately got an uneasy feeling.  How could she know what I wanted with a simple glance?  Wasn't she going to attempt to verify what I wanted?  Two people worked on my hair, folding foil in place and brushing on white goop.  More solution was put on my scalp than I've every had before.  I shifted uncomfortably as the assistant continued to dab at my part with her dripping brush.  The stylist opened a foil, stared for a moment then ran into the backroom.  She returned with her phone in hand and a triumphant smile on her face, and showed me a picture of a color that was silvery white.  You know, the color where all color has been removed then a silvery grey has been added?  It might be fine for the runway, but not for my everyday, mundane life.  Through gasps of astonishment I told here that there was not any dark in the photo and I need dark - like the photo I had shown her.  I felt a mess settling on my head.  She called over another stylist who spoke better English.  No questions asked, he just told me that if I wanted brown in my hair, it would have to be the next time I made an appointment with them.  In other words, my crowing glory was past the point of no return.

The stylist continued to work on my head with a smile on her face.  She kept exclaiming how beautiful this color was, how this was exactly what she had envisioned.  Wait!  What happened to the picture I showed her?  She didn't have to walk around town and go to the grocery store and work and church with this head of hair!  I did!  What about me and what I want?  I don't have the personality or wardrobe to pull off this urban look!

She began to pull the foils off.  It was all I could do to keep breathing as I stared in the mirror at my light bulb of a head.  She was over the top happy - I was not.  I held it together as she started snipping away.  I have to give her credit here - she did a fabulous trim, not too short and something I could manage.  My hair got lighter in color as she blew it dry.

When she asked me how I liked it, I was honest and told her  I didn't.  This is a big cultural faux pas.  You lie to save face here in Taiwan.  You don't hurt any one's feelings.  This may be why when I told her it wasn't dark enough earlier, she didn't believe me.  She finally relented and told me I could return and she would add some dark for free.  She made it very clear that if I wanted my hair washed, I would have to pay for it.  Customer service is a bit different here.  Rather than make an appointment right away, I decided to wait and get a bit of feedback.  Honestly, I wouldn't know how to tell her to fix it and I really don't trust her judgment at this point.

I made it home, had a good cry and began considering how I could get this to work.  Was there anyway this could be fun and doable for a few months?  My hair was so dried out that I didn't need to wash it for a few days which gave me a bit of time to mull this problem over and get some input from friends.  Vintage kept coming to mind.  I love how the victory rolls from the 40's have made a bit of an appearance in hair fashion.  Someone also mentioned to check out Gwen Stefani's hairstyles.  I found that she did an amazing victory roll and contrasted her bleached hair with bright lipstick.

I began playing around and each day I'm trying a new style.  I'm mixing up my wardrobe and have changed my makeup a bit.  It's fun!  Things were really getting in a rut and this certainly has shaken them up!  When I left that shop, I thought I had a disaster on my hands - lemons.  It turns out, I've been enjoying stretching myself - lemonade!

Wherever You Go

Missions tends to "look" a certain way.  You pick a platform, raise money and move to another country to tell people about Jesus.  But if you are a Christian, it shouldn't matter where you live.  You should be intentionally living your life for God.  Hannah uses her own experience of moving to China and having a job where she intentionally lives out her faith in every day circumstances with those around her to develop this story.  

In this book, she created two characters who moved to China to immerse themselves in the culture and language.  Through an email relationship, they encourage one another in the everyday aspects of living as a foreigner.  One character moved to China in response to direction from God and the other  for work experience.  

Hannah does a good job of weaving true to life situations and challenges into the conversation, theological ideas on missions and aspects of being a single, especially a female, Christian into the story.  

The Art of Joyful Living, Pt. 5

It is important to remember that not every minute in the day, week or month is designed to be a "mountaintop high" moment.  Sometimes there are seasons in life where monotony is the status quo.  This describes my summer.  The kids were home.  We all woke-up in the morning and found a good routine for getting ready for the day.  All five of us worked - day in and day out.  After work we came home, prepared dinner and hung-out for the evening until we went to bed simply to do it all over again the next day.  It was hot, so we stayed in our apartment as much as possible.  Weekends presented a bit of diversity, we would visit a night market, go to the beach or explore town.  Weekends were also our time to go grocery shopping, catch up on laundry and grab a nap if possible.  And this was ok.  There were moments of quiet, moments of laughter and the good feeling of being together.

It's easy to get caught-up in the facebook, Instagram, snapchat mindset where the best of the world is having fun, posing for selfies in front of beaches and at great restaurants.  The rest of the world is on vacation while I'm working.  But that's not the way life works.  You have a choice to make.  Am I going to follow the world and get all caught up in wanting fun every moment of the day or am I going to follow God where peace and joy are a constant even when life is mundane?  If you struggle with the need to follow social media and you find you're comparing yourself to others, I encourage you to stop and take a break.  Do a fast from social media.  After a break, you can determine if you are able to handle the world of social media.

Here are some thoughts from a photography blog I like to follow:
"We want better.  But we get them confused.  We want better photographs, so we buy better cameras. We want more interesting lives so we buy more interesting things.  We want to feel significant so we weigh in on significant issues before we listen.  We Instagram the best of ourselves in hopes that it is so, and if we can't convince ourselves, we might at least convince others.  We spend more time on Facebook and various social media, as though our days are without end.  An then to our surprise our day does end.  As does the week, the month, and where-did-the-time-go?  Our best work remains undone.  The legacy of our time not much more than a few social media impressions and half-hearted creative effort made in the margins of our lives."
David duChemin - World and Humanitarian Photographer

I'm going to close this series with some paraphrased thoughts from a friend.

The act of joyful living is to keep choosing what is right.  Even though I am anxious about the future, I put one foot in front of the other.  There are happy moments in the day, but it's the forward momentum and all the choices that keep me pushing forward that make for joyful living.

The Third Son

Set in Taiwan, this novel made the history of this country come alive.  Through the story of Saburo, I began to understand some of the history I've heard bits and pieces of.  Beginning during the Japanese occupation, through the invasion of Chiang Kai Shek and into the transition of Chinese rule, a boy, Saburo, grows up.  He meets his wife and leaves her behind to pursue a rare opportunity at University education in America.  Eventually she is able to join him and begin a new life.  Through their stories I began to understand some of the culture and historic events that have formed the people of Taiwan.

I highly recommend this book if you live in Taiwan.  You will visit sights you've seen, food you've tasted and events you've heard about will come alive.

The Art of Joyful Living, Pt. 4

This is the Day the LORD has made;

let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24

Make a choice to be happy.  We have separated happiness and joy.  We have taken them apart as if they are two different things.  But really, happiness is the emotion of joy overflowing into smiles, laughter and pleasure with life.  God created all things good for us to enjoy.  It's Satan who has twisted these things into sin but God created happiness for us.  Don't let Satan deceive you that happiness is bad.

Joy looks to the future with adventure and happiness.

Proverbs 31 is known as The Virtuous Woman chapter.  Adventures in life are adventures with God.  I have a feeling that a great number of people in this room know about taking a risk in life and trusting God to sustain you.  You can play it safe and have no bumps or bruises along the way, or you can throw open the door of possibility to God and let the joy of discovering His faithfulness and provision be the vehicle on your journey.

A wife of noble character who can find?

This is worth far more than rubies...

She is clothed with strength and dignity; 

she can laugh at the days to come.

Proverbs 31:10, 25

I can imagine the prophet, Samuel, writing the account of Ruth.  Possibly he sat down with Jesse, the father of King David, and listened to him tell stories of his grandmother.  Jesse probably reminisced about the grandmother he knew and the family story that had been passed down about how his grandmother came to Israel and met his grandfather, Boaz.  Samuel probably found this story fun and inspiring to record.  As he listened to Jesse, the phrase "a woman of noble character" could have run through his mind until he chose those words to write down as an everlasting description of this foreign woman who would become the great grandmother of Kind David and mentioned in the genealogy of Jesus.

The only other place in the Old Testament that we find this phrase is in Proverbs 31.  Yes!  The chapter we all turn to when we want to have a bit of guidance on the sort of women we are to be, the "Woman of Virtue" chapter.  The book of Proverbs was written by the wise King Solomon.  Ruth was Solomon's great, great grandmother.  This is so exciting, it just gives me chills!  By using this phrase that would have been familiar to the people, it's as if Solomon is saying, "You want to know what a virtuous woman is like?  Look at my great, great grandmother, Ruth."  As I read through Provers 31, I see glimpses of the girl Ruth, who earned a solid reputation in a short time in Israel.  

She brings him good, not harm, (vrs. 12) 

works with eager hands. (vas. 13)  

she gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family (vrs. 15) 

She sets about her work vigorously (vrs. 17)

She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. (vrs. 20)

Her husband is respected at the city gate (vrs. 23)

She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. (vrs. 25)

All of these phrases remind me of the girl Ruth, I have studied.  And then my favorite part.

Charm is deceptive,

and beauty is fleeting:

but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

Proverbs 31:30

Ruth, the girl from Moab, whose husband died, who lived with her mother-in-law (who doesn't sound like an easy soul to endure), left her home, walked a very, very long way to change cultures and customs, who had every reason in the world not to laugh at the unknown future, who turned to her mother-in-law and said, your God will be my God, left all of her former religion behind, and with her whole heart, embraced the one true God.  She passed the truths of who God is down to her children, and they to their children until a king, sitting on the throne, picked up a pen and began to write about his great, great grandmother and said "This is what you want to be like."  As she grew into a woman, these characteristics grew and matured into being a solid woman of virtue.

Her children arise and call her blessed;

her husband also,

and he praises her:

Many women do noble things,

but you surpass them all.

Proverbs 31:28-29

Among all of his memories, Solomon remembered that his great, great, grandmother laughed.

The Art of Joyful Living, Pt. 3

Dalia Hill - Midland, Michigan

Fear - we all have fears.  They may be hidden deep for no one to see, but they are there.  Often it takes time to realize that a fear is budding, but when we realize it, we can't let it take root and grow because it will begin to block out the light of joy.

Having MS has presented a whole new world of fears to me.  Real and imagined.  Some I've had to face and have been able to accept the new reality and move on.  Like giving myself shots.  The thought horrified me, but after a week the whole daily ordeal seemed rather anti-climatic, and I've been able to accept it and move on.  Occasionally I have a day where I just don't want to poke myself or I'm feeling especially vulnerable so I ask for help.  I let someone else gain a little pleasure from poking me with a needle!  Other things, like driving, I often have to assess myself to make sure I'm seeing well and am not too tired to be behind the wheel.  I've lost my confidence because I don't want to put myself or someone else in an unsafe situation.  

My future is a fear that I don't have to face.  I don't know what it will be, so I simply pull a sheet over the fear and don't look at it.  I avoid thinking about what may or may not be.  There is a woman who goes to my church back home that has MS.  She has been an amazing help and encouragement to my mom.  I know this woman.  She had kids at the same school I attended.  Naturally she was around basketball games, school plays and church picnics.  I was the kid and she was the parent who always had a smile and hug.  She didn't have MS back then.  

A few years after I left home she was diagnosed and the disease has slowly progressed for her.  The first Sunday I was home this fall, I was standing in the back of the church lobby with my parents while people were meandering out of the auditorium following morning service.  My mom caught a glimpse of this friend and commented that I should go talk with her.  Instead, I stood there, rooted to my spot, barely able to breathe.  I watched her walk slowly and purposefully to the exit.  I couldn't move.  The sheet that I had casually thrown over my fear, slipped off and crumbled onto the floor at my feet.  It was exposed and all I could do was turn and run.  

I felt awful.  For the next few days I couldn't stop thinking about my fears.  I rather liked living far away where I didn't have to look at what the future may or may not hold.  As the days passed, I realized how this fear had stolen my joy.  I knew that it would take much longer for me to regain that joy if I faced my fear rather than try to ignore it.

Finally, I borrowed my mom's bike and rode to church where she works.  I chose not to drive the two miles because I needed the time before and after to process.  Propelling the bike along with my own energy help burn off some of the anxiety I was feeling.

Graciously, she showed me into her office and shut the door.  The next hour unfolded into a beautiful time of listening, hearing, sharing my fears, being encouraged and praying for one another.  She took my fear and squashed it like the ugly bug it was.  She showed me that although there is pain, there is a greater closeness to God.  Although there is exhaustion, there is a greater appreciation for life and the gift of today that God has given us.

So fear.  We have a choice to let it run our lives and stop us from enjoying today or we can chose to face our fears and do what is needed to walk through them holding God's hand.

The Art of Joyful Living, Pt. 2

Chang Kai Shek Music Hall

How do we water and feed the fruit of the Spirit?  How do we make joy an art in our lives?

Fix my eyes on God -

soon I'll be praising again.

He puts a smile on my face.

He's my God.

Psalm 42:5  Message

Most importantly, we must saturate ourselves with God day in and day out.

I assume that this is elementary information to most of you out there so I'll just touch the surface of each area to refresh your mind.

Read our Bibles - This is one of the ABC's of being a Christian.  We all know we need to regularly be pouring God's words into our lives if we are going to grow.  Make it a habit.  Join a Bible study to keep you accountable.  Keep a journal of things you discover or how God speaks to you.  Teach a kid's Sunday school class.  It doesn't matter what you do, just find a way that works for you.  Here's a small example from my life.

As I mentioned, I was going into this women's conference jet lagged and on top of that our dog had just died.  My heart was not exactly full of joy as I was preparing.  A few days before the conference I was reading my Bible out of habit, because it's what I do every day.

The earth is the LORD's 

and everything in it.

Psalm 24:1

I stopped and read that verse again and again, and throughout the day I continued to think about it over and over.  At any other time and to anyone else, that verse would have just been a nice, warm fuzzy verse.  But God brought me comfort by reminding me that our dog was really God's.  God felt the pain I felt at our dog's sad death.  God knew and God cared.  I needed that to help restore my joy.  I would't have had that comfort from God if I was not in the habit of reading my Bible day in and day out.

Pray - Another ABC that is essential in our lives.  Honestly, prayer is a more difficult spiritual discipline for me.  I work hard at it, but it doesn't come naturally.  Another woman spoke specifically on finding joy in prayer.  Again, do what you need to to pray consistently.  Join a prayer group, have a prayer partner, keep a prayer journal, pray scripture.

Listen to Praise Music - I love music.  It's often on in our house.  Lately, my favorite thing is listening to records.  I have been collecting old records - classical music, Doris Day, Frank Sinatra and a few of my new favorites like Adele.  Stuff that can be on in the background while we are reading and studying.  But I also love praise and worship music.  I listen to it at work and in the car and while I'm cooking.  Music is an unconscious way to set a mood and focus our hearts.

Fellowship - Who do you hang around with?  How are they affecting your joy?  This is a tough one.  There are two groups of people we hang around.  The first is Christians and the other is non-Christians.

Because of the common ground we find in God, Christians easily become my closest friends.  They are the "friend that sticks closer than a brother."  We share a bond of friendship that is strengthened by common belief.  Sometimes Christian friends go through difficult times.  Sometimes they have sin in their lives that they have not been able to conquer.  We need to examine our relationships and make sure that they are in balance.  When they are out of balance and we are carrying their burden for them, we need to stop.  We need to put up boundaries and we need to encourage that friend to seek professional hep.  Even  our Christian friends can rob us of our joy, and we need to be sure that we protect this gift that God gave us.

Working in a secular workplace, day in and day out, I am surrounded by people who do not believe God.  We are friends and I love the time I get to spend building friendships.  It makes my day happy to have it filled with people from various departments throughout the day.  Nothing beats a light conversation in the hall to break up a mundane day.  But they often have a different moral code that they live by.  They make choices that are destructive to their soul without understanding the long term consequences.  The results of these choices make them unhappy.  Sometimes when they are happy, it comes out in crude ways.  Sin is funny to them.  Most of these people do not have joy in their lives, yet to show them God's joy, I need to have some grace and really get to know them, even when it is a bit uncomfortable.  Because when I get past that discomfort, I discover their beauty beneath the pain. I need to share lunch or go sit in their offices and listen.  When their world falls apart, I can't turn a harsh shoulder to them, but I need to show them compassion and let them know that there is a greater hope than the one that isn't working for them.  But even though I spend a lot of my time with non-Christians, they can't be my only or even (for me) my main source of friendships.

Clothes and Living Space - What are your clothes and the space you live in doing to bring joy into your life?

In her book In This Together, Ann Romney remembers this:

"Several years ago while straightening our house, I found a photograph of me that was taken the first Christmas after I was diagnosed with MS.  I'm sitting in a chair.  The chair is gray, I'm wearing a gray sweater, my face is gray.  My shoulders are hunched, and I seemed to be thoroughly defeated.  When I looked at that picture, it brought me right back to how I felt at that time:  gray.   I was sad and deeply depressed.  My future was bleak.  I remembered those horrible feelings.  Around me, everyone was getting ready for Christmas, and all I was capable of doing was sitting in that chair.  After a few seconds I ripped up that picture.  I ripped it into as many pieces as I could, telling myself, I don't ever want to go back there again.  I don't want to be in that dark place again, ever.  I wish now that I hadn't ripped up that photograph.  I wish I could show it to anyone struggling with their burden - as I stand tall and tell them they have a future."

Our surroundings and how we dress affect how we are doing inside just as how we are doing inside affects our surroundings and dress.

Is everything still in boxes from the last move because you just didn't have the strength to unpack once again?  Ask a friend to come over and help you  put it all away.

Is your house cluttered with more than it can hold?  Give the extra, unnecessary items away.

Are your clothes all old?  Go to the night market or hit a sale and pick out something fun and new.

There are many more ways for us to water and feed the Spirit.  Think on it.  What would you add to this list?

The Art of Joyful Living, Pt. 1

Chang Kai Shek Memorial

My first talk at the women's conference went well and if felt like a burden had been lifted off my shoulders.  I slept soundly and woke feeling refreshed and ready to give my second presentation.

After choosing my title and seeing it printed on the leaflet, I googled The Art of Joyful Living to see what the great world wide web had to say about my topic.  I was a bit surprised to see site after site of new age and eastern religion sites using the phrase. So why don't Christians talk about creating a life that is joyful day in and day out?  Why don't we put things in place that will help us maintain an inner joy even when life dumps its garbage on us?

Joy doesn't just happen.  Happiness does, but longterm joy, the kind that stays in our hearts even when a typhoon rips at our soul, needs to be nurtured and grown.

Previously, I discussed what joy is - living our lives with the understanding of the grace that God has extended to us, and in that place we find JOY.  

Now I want to talk about how to cultivate it as an art in our lives.

Joy day in and day out isn't going to happen magically.  It will take purpose, planning and practice. That is when joy becomes an art.

Art:  1)  skill acquired by experience, study or observation (the art of making friends)

Art:  4)  a skill at doing a specified thing, typically one acquired through practice.

Miriam-Webster.com

For 14 weeks this past spring, I got up every Saturday morning, rode my bike along the river and joined the AIT team to practice for Dragon Boat racing.  I had so much fun learning the skill of paddling the boat together.  We practiced our start and drumming and flag catching.  We worked on our paddle over and over again until we believed we had perfected the technique.  As the men were racing, I stood along the bank of the river watching.  Our men won their first round and moved into the second round.  The competition was tougher and I watched the "14 week" teams begin to lose as they raced against teams that trained year round.  I started to focus on the teams that were really good. They looked like they were a unit of one - their bodies and paddles moved as one.  Their power and force was amazing, yet it looked effortless.  Their boat didn't jerk through the water as ours did, rather it glided in a continuous motion.  It was beautiful to watch.  The is how our joy should appear to others - beautiful to watch.  It is an art, not a 14 week challenge.

Think about taking the time to invest in joy in your life.  Next week we'll look at some of the practical ways of making joy a priority and habit in your life.

Joy in the Journey, Pt. 4

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 & 4

We have been saturated with the belief that we must always be oozing joy.  But difficult things in life happen...

Like when you wake up one morning and your vision is double.  A quick appointment with the ophthalmologist tells you that things should shortly return to normal - but they don't.  Your eyes get worse and it leads to an appointment with a neurologist which leads to a stay in the hospital in a foreign country and more tests and flying home to see a specialist.  With one short diagnosis, what you believed your future would look like crumbles to pieces like a vase that the cat just knocked over.

Like when you see your brand new friend at church and her son is in a pain and they've decided they need to go home.  You email back and forth because somehow in shared suffering you are able to encourage one another.  But you hear the pain and the exhaustion between the lines.  You cry out to God as you grieve over her son going through chemo therapy and this mom hurting so deeply with her son's suffering.

Like when you are sitting in a bar in Bangkok, watching girls be sold for five minutes of pleasure.  You lock eyes with them and see rivers of pain masked by thick makeup and a plastered on smile.  You grieve as you smile at them, hold out your hand and try to give them in a few short hours a moment of relief and safety, a glimpse into a joy that can't be stolen from them like so much has been, a hope that there is life after this...

Like when you call your parents and find out your dad needs open heart surgery.  You are so very, very far away and feel helpless in this time that you want to be there, sitting by his side, working on a talk about joy - together.

These are a few glimpses of times during this past year when my joy could have been stolen.  There are seasons in life when God asks us to open our hands and give Him our dreams about the future.  When He wants us to fall on our face and beg Him for healing of the sick.  He wants us to see the least of these and extend love to them.

We see from Jesus very own life that He had moments of deep emotion where joy wasn't on the surface, breaking through with sunshine.  The most poignant example is when Jesus' dear friend, Lazarus, died.

Jesus wept.

John 11:3

The Greek word for "wept" is dakruo.  It means to shed quiet, actual tears or to weep tears silently.  Jesus stood there, in front of the tomb, and rivers of water streamed down his face as he mourned from deep within himself.  Although others were around, this was a moment that Jesus had personal, deep grieving.

Can we say that at moments like this, joy is gone?  No, we can say that happiness is gone, that these are seasons where it is time to weep.  But joy is a fruit of the Spirit and like a seed buried deep in the soil, when it is watered and fed, it will grow.

Just as there are times of sorrow and deep emotion in life, there are times of meaninglessness as well.  

I've been in a time of longing for meaning in my job.  I've come home from work so many days and shook my head and felt depleted at the lack of meaning to one single person in what I spent my day doing.  Solomon, a man to whom God gave every physical thing imaginable, uses the word meaningless 38 times in Ecclesiastes.  Yet he didn't let his viewpoint stay stuck in the perspective of meaninglessness.  Here are a few verses showing how Solomon constantly was resolving his feelings of meaninglessness.

The I realized that it is good and proper for a man to eat and drink, 

and to find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given him - for this is his lot.

Ecclesiastes 5:18

So I commend the enjoyment of life because nothing is better for a man under the sun then to eat and drink and be glad.

Then joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun.

Ecclesiastes 8:15

Really?  Nothing is better than to eat, drink and be glad?  Nothing?  Not love?  Not obedience?  Not righteous living?  Not telling others about Jesus?  This makes me think of John 10:10 - "I have come that you may have life and have it to the full."  Ladies, God is serious that He wants us to have the fruit of the Spirit in our lives and that includes joy.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.  Against such things there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

These fruits are evidence of the Holy Spirit's active presence in our lives.

Joy and peace walk hand in hand.  One cannot be separated from the other.  Like the Russian women I used to see walking down the street.  Arms linked together they huddled close.  Not distracted by the surrounding noise, they spoke a quiet conversation not meant for the world around them.  This is how joy and peace are linked together.  Sometimes the noise of life drowns one out.  But they are still there supporting you amidst the pain and sorrow and suffering.  They gently push in, providing a little smile here and a laugh there.

As life is a journey through happiness and sadness, different situations and different places, if we have Jesus on that journey then joy can also be a companion.

Joy in the Journey, Pt. 3

A cheerful heart is good medicine,

but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

Proverbs 17:22

From there to here, from here to there, 

funny things are everywhere.

Dr. Seuss

Some researchers think laughter just might be the best medicine, helping you feel better and putting that spring back in your step.  Laughter is a natural, God given response to joy in life.  It is a gift.

We change physiologically when we laugh.  We stretch muscles throughout our faces and body, our pulse and blood pressure go up, and we breathe faster, sending more oxygen to our tissues.

The Mayo Clinic claims there are many benefits to laughter.  Laughter actually induces physical changes in our bodies stimulating many organs.  As you laugh you take in deep breaths of oxygen which stimulate your heart, lungs and muscles and increase the endorphins released by your brain.  A good laugh fires up and then cools down your stress response while increasing your heart rate and blood pressure.  The result?  A good, relaxed feeling.  It also stimulates circulation and aids in muscle relaxation reducing the physical symptoms of stress.

Laughter isn't just a quick pick-me-up though.  It's also good for you over the longterm by improving your immune system.  Negative thoughts manifest into chemical reactions that can affect your body by bringing more stress into your system and decreasing your immunity.  In contrast, positive thoughts can actually release neuropeptides that help fight stress and potentially more serious illnesses.  Laughter helps the body to produce its own natural painkillers.  Many people experience depression, sometimes due to chronic illnesses.  Laughter can help lessen the depression and anxiety and help cope with difficult situation.

I read a story about some women in their 70's who did a Bible study together.  One week, they came together, not feeling well.  Two  had sever arthritic pain.  One had had a strong headache for several days.  Another felt depressed and two felt blah and indifferent.  We all know these feelings that can get us down and rob us of our joy.  Desperate to feel better, they decided to do a few fake "he, he's."  It sounded so dumb to them, that they ended up in fits of genuine laughter.  They were amazed as they noticed that the pain of their arthritis had lessened, the headache subsided and the depression gave way to a feeling of greater well-being.  

God knows what's good for us emotionally and physically.  Take time to share a joke and have a good laugh.