Flourishing

I woke up this morning feeling low…

The rare Northwest snow that so delighted me for several days, now washed away by cold, dreary rain. The forest outside my window now turned muddy and bleak. Christmas has come and gone, replaced by an ominous surge of sickness that brings worries for those I love. Sadness for a friend who lost her husband too young won’t go away.  

And I know my life is good. That I have lots to be thankful for. But I’m learning to pause in those low moments. To listen. 

What is this about Father?

The Shepherds come to mind— those low-in-status, obscure men to whom angels came to announce the birth of our Savior. They were ecstatic with joy! Their story full of active verbs and over-the-top exclamations. 

And then they had to go back to work. Nothing of significance changed in their days. Life was still a struggle; hope was hard to find. Herod still ruled, oppression continued.

Today I feel a little like those shepherds must have felt as they trudged back to their daily lives. But instead of going back to bed and burying myself in oblivion, I’ll go back to what I know: 

Flourishing comes, not from certain circumstances, but from a certain way of being. 

How can I possibly flourish today when I just want to retire… do only what sounds fun… eat whatever I want… and entirely redecorate my house? 

My eyes wander to a couple lines in James’ letter, written to a beleaguered people:

“Blessed (flourishing) is the man who remains steadfast under trial.” (1:12)

But why? How? 

I lean in to hear.

“…for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God promised to those who love Him.”

Here is what I know to be true but that rarely feels true in the moment: a trial, a hard thing, something unfair and unexpected disrupts our lives and, counter to how we feel, we hang on tight to Jesus, loving Him, seeking Him, listening to Him, clinging by faith to what we read in His Word— and we flourish. 

Not happy and ecstatic… but steadfast and determined.

And then my eyes catch on the verse right before this crazy claim of a crown of honor just for loving God: … “the rich person will wither away while pursuing his activities”.

Rich here doesn’t mean there’s something condemnable about being wealthy. James is talking about those who lose sight of their desperate need for Jesus because life is easy and good without Him. 

Meanwhile the mother of a toddler, and preschooler, with a special needs child, who can barely pay her bills and keep her house half way clean (let alone decorated!)— she flourishes. Maybe not in the immediate moment, but by daily perseverance, remaining steadfast, getting up every morning to go at it again with no end in sight because she does love God even though she cannot understand the why’s of the hard parts of her life.

She will flourish. Happiness belongs to her, joy will come. 

There’s something here I think we all need to grasp— especially on those dreary days when life is less than happy, happy, happy! 

The happiness we crave comes— not when everything’s hunky dory and we’re A-okay— but when, in desperation, in darkness, in those moments when we are tempted to throw in the towel and quit the hard thing we are called to do—and we don’t because we love God and we want Him and we know He’s with us even when we can’t feel Him… 

That’s when flourishing sneaks up on us. Happiness-no-matter-what gets built into our soul, one brick at a time. And then, over time, we find ourselves surrounded by a thick wall of protection from all the real-life assaults that come at us.  One brick at a time we’ve become women who are proficient at running into Jesus as our strong tower, our reason for joy, our resilience. 

And dreary mornings become reminders of our hunger for Him…which in turn brings us back to flourishing.

If you’re having a hard time right now— whether from awful things or just because the day is gray and the kids are hard and… well, just because of no real reason you can name, will you let me know? I’ll gather names to take with me as I walk in the now-muddy forest, and I’ll bring your need for joy and strength and steadfastness to the Father. He is, after all, the giver of every good gift.  

From my heart,

Diane