A friend of mine, about a week ago, sent me a text and asked me "What is God's purpose for our lives?" I sent her one word: Joy. She said that she felt joy was important, but could not see that as the purpose of life. For the last week I have found myself pondering the idea of joy again. My step-mother told me a comment her stake president made. Something to the effect that joy comes from strict obedience.
Last night I was talking with a friend and she made the comment that when we are growing we are increasing our capacity for joy. I like that. There is a truth that all of these thoughts have lead me to. Joy is a state of being that can be found in a "poor heart" or, a heart that is open to truth and growth. The heart that is able to see a trial as a way for increasing their capacity for joy, to see obedience as the tool that leads to joy, to see joy as the purpose and aim of life - that heart is one that is open and able to be close to God.
An open heart will lead to relationships that promote the building of Zion. The connection that happens to two or more people whose hearts are completely open is indescribable. There is a refuge found in that relationship. There is a holy, sacred peace that can only be described as joy. Rejoicing in truth. Rejoicing in our ability to truly see each other. Rejoicing in our hearts having a place to go where all is love and assurance.
I have another friend whose 4th child is taking his/her time in getting here. She is 42 weeks along (plus 1 day) and this baby has reminded me of another aspect of joy. The trial of waiting increases this families ability to rejoice when the baby arrives, but there is another joy I see here. Maybe it is because I am not the one carrying the baby....I'm sure that helps my ability to see things a little differently.
As those of you who know me know, I am unable to have children. This friend has included me in every aspect of motherhood that she could. And I am writing this post from her computer, hoping she has this baby before I have to go back to work on Wednesday morning. This baby has brought she and I closer together in our relationship. As I watch her hope and wait for this baby, I find myself feeling gratitude for all that this experience is to me. In Isaiah 14:32 we read, "What shall one then answer the messengers of the nation? That the Lord hath founded Zion, and the poor of his people shall trust in it."
This is the joy I see in this experience. The temporal aspect of Zion is that "there [are] no poor among them." My friend is giving me the opportunity to experience something I could never have had any other way. She is sharing what she has with one who has not. She is giving me a glimpse of our eternal goal. Tonight I feel like the poor of God's people, trusting in Zion.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
The Barren Winter
As I was driving today I saw such beautiful scenery - it was all I could do to keep driving and not pull over and sit in the silence for a while. I noticed the pristine snow on the mountains as I headed south. There was thick fog that went from the valley to the mid-mountain area, making the mountain look like it was floating on the clouds. What few trees existed were barren and the glories of spring were buried underneath the layers of snow and ice.
I found myself pondering how very like nature we are - again. The glories of spring and summer, as they fade into fall and finally seem to be lost in winter, are never really that far away. Spring brings forth the blossom and the bud, evidence that life still exists. Summer is the time for growth and fruit. Fall is the time for harvesting and pruning back. Then there is the quiet winter - time for reflection and introspection.
There is an even flow to nature, all seasons are important and necessary. To live life without them would be wasteful and fruitless. And the older I grow, the more I come to appreciate the "winter" of life. There is much to be said for times of reflection on both my own life and the wisdom in the lives of those who have gone before me. If I wish to learn and to improve, winter must come regularly, in it's duly appointed time.
As I watched the sun crest the mountain and felt the warmth of it's rays on my arm and the side of my face I was again struck by the glory of God's creations. The snow became fire and the mountains in the distance to the south began to change from shades of pink, to shades of yellow, to brilliance. I suppose that is what happens to each of us as the Son sheds His light on us. We grow and we change and we become more than we ever imagined possible. We see more clearly and understand more fully.
We find joy in the changes of spring that bring new life and new hope. We have fulfillment in the growth of summer and the fruits of our hopeful spring. We are grateful in the pruning moderation of fall that reminds us to keep ourselves in balance. And we rejoice, greatly, in the reflection of winter that allows us to meditate on where we have been, where we are headed, and anticipate the new path that will unfold in front of us next spring.
In our reflection is the blossom of spring, given warmth by the heat of summers past burning in our hearts, and made fertile by the memories of fall - all are treasured up and held sacred through the barren winter.
I found myself pondering how very like nature we are - again. The glories of spring and summer, as they fade into fall and finally seem to be lost in winter, are never really that far away. Spring brings forth the blossom and the bud, evidence that life still exists. Summer is the time for growth and fruit. Fall is the time for harvesting and pruning back. Then there is the quiet winter - time for reflection and introspection.
There is an even flow to nature, all seasons are important and necessary. To live life without them would be wasteful and fruitless. And the older I grow, the more I come to appreciate the "winter" of life. There is much to be said for times of reflection on both my own life and the wisdom in the lives of those who have gone before me. If I wish to learn and to improve, winter must come regularly, in it's duly appointed time.
As I watched the sun crest the mountain and felt the warmth of it's rays on my arm and the side of my face I was again struck by the glory of God's creations. The snow became fire and the mountains in the distance to the south began to change from shades of pink, to shades of yellow, to brilliance. I suppose that is what happens to each of us as the Son sheds His light on us. We grow and we change and we become more than we ever imagined possible. We see more clearly and understand more fully.
We find joy in the changes of spring that bring new life and new hope. We have fulfillment in the growth of summer and the fruits of our hopeful spring. We are grateful in the pruning moderation of fall that reminds us to keep ourselves in balance. And we rejoice, greatly, in the reflection of winter that allows us to meditate on where we have been, where we are headed, and anticipate the new path that will unfold in front of us next spring.
In our reflection is the blossom of spring, given warmth by the heat of summers past burning in our hearts, and made fertile by the memories of fall - all are treasured up and held sacred through the barren winter.
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