Where to begin? I guess first of all I have to brag a bit that I have FINALLY gotten into a workout routine I'm sticking to. It's been 2 months of hitting the gym or swimming laps 3 - 5 times a week. Go me! I'm also trying hard to avoid refined sugars and carbs during the week, but indulging (often over-indulging, I confess) on the weekends.  And I'm feeling so much better emotionally.  

Yesterday I worked out with a friend who will one day make it into my catalogue of "Bible Studies with Flesh on", as she sharpens me like no other iron-to-iron friend ever has before. Usually God uses her to sharpen my spirit, but yesterday He used her to sharpen me physically. You see, Amber is is an avid worker-outer. Needless to say, today it hurt to lower myself into a chair. I texted her at 6am with the simple word, "Ouch." After swimming laps during my children's' swim lessons at 8am I texted her again, "Double Ouch." But while my body felt sore, my heart was full and I was happy.

And then around noon I began to lose control emotionally. I was exhausted, the boys were exhausted, we had too many errands to run and Dr. appointments to hit, then off to pick up big brother from school and take him to his piano lesson. The boys were all crying by this time and I was out of gas. So we swung through the take-out line at Mickey D's only to discover I'd left my wallet in our swim bag, which was at this point inconveniently sitting inside the front door of our little home. Brody started to cry "Why can't they just give me my double cheese booger now and we can come back and pay them money tomorrow?" Wasn't that Popeye's friend Wimpey's line? "I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a Hamburger today."

Anyway, we made it home on fumes, since gas stations surprisingly don't accept IOUs either. I shoo'd the boys to the bathroom to wash up for dinner and grabbed a great big handful of left over chocolate Easter candy. Then whipped up cheesy eggs, fried a ham steak in butter, placed those thick slices of porky goodness between thick slices of butter bread, and poured tall glasses of chocolate milk all around. It was ready in a flash and eaten even faster.

NOT ONE OF THESE DINNER ITEMS IS ON MY DIET!

Still I wanted more. I threw together a casserole dish of stuffing to accompany tomorrow night's purposefully lean menu of pork chops and spinach salad, and then shoved a batch of sour cream banana muffins into the oven for tomorrow's breakfast. I substituted not one fatty ingredient for a low fat alternative. 1/2 cup butter, 1 cup sugar, 3 whole eggs, sour cream, and white flour! I only stopped when I started to feel sick to my stomach and keeled over in pain. It was them I realized what had happened; my monthly guest had arrived for the rest of the week.

sigh.

I guess this was a long intro to a simple post:

I remember the awful cramps I'd get in HIgh School.  One day I made it out of class and into the hallway just in time to throw up from the pain.  After the mess was cleaned up and I was home for the afternoon I decided to change my moaning and my thinking about this whole womanly who-ha-ha. From then on, each time I felt like grumbling, I turned my complaints to Praise. "Thank you, Lord" my 16 year old self would say, "Thank you for making me a woman. Thank you that I'll likely have children one day because this cycle of mine ticks on so regularly. Thank you that when I am weak, You are strong. Thank you that a good night of sleep always helps, and tomorrow won't be so tough. Thank you that it's only one week each month and that I don't have chronic pain that torments me every day... Thank you... Thank you... Thank you..."

18 years later and I'm still looking for ways to turn my complaints to praise. For a while I was bitter about my husband's travel / work schedule, but have come to praise the Lord for his opportunities and admirable work-ethic; I've also had to surrender my grumbling heart when child-correction seems never ending, and instead Praise the Lord that each opportunity is a gift to point these young ones in the way they should go.

Where are you grumbling today? Are you caring for an aging parent?  Working as a full-time mother and carrying a full-time job?  Do you struggle to show respect toward your mother-in-law? Is it eating away at you that your husband never plans dates for you anymore?  Are your children constantly asking for snacks and trips to the local pool when you would like a moment to sit and rest? How can you turn those grumbles to praises? Make a plan today. Make a plan and lift your hands. Your Spirit is sure to follow.

 "A joyful (praising) heart is good medicine,

but a broken (complaining) spirit dries up the bones."

(Proverbs 17:22)

It's been well over a week since I posted here at "Love Covers a Multitude of Sons" because, well honestly, loving my sons as taken every bit of my time, strength, and energy these past busy weeks. 

Just like you, In the midst of the business, I long to love my Multitude fresh each day. For me, beginning each morning in God's Word is paramount for the filling, the sustenance, and the endurance required.  It doesn't always happen first thing in our home, where boys are usually up by 5:45 each morning, ready for milk as they play with their action figures - but I do try to sneak away in the early part of each day.  

One day last week, in the middle of the madness, my husband volunteered to take our oldest to school.  The two little ones enjoyed a morning of legos and sticker books and so I stole away.  I showered, dressed, made my bed, and opened up my Bible. (Okay, so I opened up the Bible App on my iphone.)  It took me straight to where I'd left off the day before.  Psalm 119.  

Since beginning my time in the Psalms a couple of weeks ago I have been looking forward to this particular one.  I've loved this Chapter since High School, and was eager to read it again and apply it in fresh ways to my life in this unique season.  Alas... I was brain dead as I read through the first few verses.  I stopped, prayed, and started all over again.  Then again.  And again.  Finally I closed my Bible (a.k.a. turned my phone off)  and the words of my Pastor echoed in my mind, "Did you come here to hear from the Lord this morning?"  

I nodded, eyes shut, in prayerful response to the question.  "Yes," I breathed my answer.  

The phone rang as though on cue. I hesitated, not wanting to discard these hard to find stolen moments, but knew Matt would be calling soon.  So I answered, "Hello?"  It was my dear friend Bonni on the other end.  We only speak 2 - 3 times a year, but each conversation is loaded with laughter, tears, and deep encouragement.  The timing couldn't have been more ideal.

As we talked about our days, and lives, and children, she said "I spend 90% of my mothering time and energy on my two boys.  The three girls... their needs just aren't as constant as the boys.  They have their issues, they're just not as loud about them."  we laughed together and then she went on to drop this hard earned pearl,  "The boys never stop pushing boundaries and testing what's right, but instead of getting upset or frustrated I've started praising God for each opportunity to instruct my boys.  It's so easy to grumble and nag and abuse them with our words over long days spent together, but I've come to see each time they push a boundary as a chance for me to correct them, instruct them, and disciple them."

For the rest of that day, and these past weeks, each time my boys have spoken nasty words to one another, cried for one another's things, or used their hands or feet in anger, I praised God (as I took a deep breath,) and thanked Him for another blessed opportunity to train my boys up in the way they should go.  

Grace.  Applied.  The Bible.  Applied.  With Flesh on.

Thank you, Bonni.  

Photo curtesy of Tammy Labuda Photography in the greater Dallas, TX. area.

My boys get all amped up at bedtime.  While I fancy myself a wordsmith, there are NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE THE CHAOS THAT ENSUES EACH AND EVERY NIGHT!  No matter how I tweak their bedtime routine, what time we move upstairs, what combination of children I put together in a room, what books we read or songs we sing, it always spirals into tears and fears and pleas for MORE!  And I am wiped out.  

If you've read more than a handful of my posts then you know my mothering-mantra:  

"Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart!"  (Galatians 6:9)

And so I persevere in love and with love; loving words, loving boundaries, loving prayers, loving encouragement, loving consequences... love love love.

But tonight they didn't just fight me, they fought one another as well.  I split them up and sent them to different rooms.  (ding ding ding - to your corners!)  I loved on each of them separately, speaking truth and challenges, forgiveness and grace into their young hearts.  To Caleb I exhorted him to be a peacemaker instead of a trouble maker.  He responded, "I was mad that Brody called me a jerk... but he was right... I was being a jerk.  Why do I always do what I don't want to do?"

I've stopped counting the times my eldest has unknowingly quoted Scripture to me.  

"I do not understand what I do.

For what I want to do I do not do,

but what I hate I do."  (Romans 7:15)

We sat together in silence for a few moments as I tickled his back with my fingers.  He asked why my fingers were so soft and I told him I've been using lotion.  "I like it when they are dry" he said, "they tickle better that way."

I rubbed a few more moments and then asked him to tell me the verse he memorized this week. These words poured over his lips:

"You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly... But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:6&

"Caleb," I gently whispered, "you were a jerk tonight.  What's more, you're powerless to do anything about it.  But God demonstrated his own love for you in this: even though he knew you'd treat your brothers this way tonight, Christ died for you."

"And since you have believed in Christ and received His forgiveness, you can trust that He is here now, strengthening you to do a better job next time your brother is being unkind to you.  God loved you even though you are a sinner...  He will help you learn to love Brody when Brody is sinning against you.  What do you think about that?  Can you demonstrate your own love toward Brody by loving him when he's being unkind to you?"

"I want to... I want to be a peace maker" was his simple reply.

I have a category of blog posts on the sidebar called "The hard days."  This post will be listed there. For I am amazed, time and again amazed, what deep, rich, soil toiling and seed planting lessons are taught on these difficult days with my boys.  

Say it with me, breath it in and pour it out in your own prayers, "Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart."  

I say slow, he says fast.

I say pizza, he says hot dogs.

I say red-box, he says net-flicks.

I say bath, he says shower.

I say sweatshirt, he says bare-chested.

I say up, he says down.

Meet (dum dum dum...) Captain Contrarian.  

I dubbed him thus over three years ago when I delivered a comedic talk for young moms entitled "Becoming Supermom!"  In the opening I introduced myself to the gathering of women, by introducing them to the super-identities of my three sons.  

Captain Contrarian was the super-identity of my first born when he was nearly five.  Now at eight and a half he continues to leap over tall buildings in a single (super-contrary) bound each and every day!  

It never ceases to amaze me how contrary this happy, healthy, loved child can be.  It's as though he was wired that way in my womb.  And as I have a naturally submissive personality, this has been a constant area of work for me as Captain C's mother.  

Every day his contrarian ways move faster than a locomotive through our home, but tonight's contrary display of super-power took the cape.  

While tucking him into bed I reminded him that we would be finishing up his book report in the morning.  We went over the notes we had already jotted down and plotted out our display for his presentation.  The name of his book is "Lady Lollipop" so I suggested something I KNEW would make my strong-willed boy melt with delight.  "Why don't we go to the store and get a bag of lollipops to decorate the poster with?  Then, at the end of your presentation, you can hand one out to each of the children in your classroom."

Surprisingly, the Captain merely shrugged and said, "No, I don't think so." 

"Caleb" I said, in my best kryptonite laced tone, "I'm going to offer you this one more time, think carefully before you answer.  Would you like to decorate your LADY LOLLIPOP poste-rboard poster-board with actual lollipops, (your most favorite candy in the world,) and then give one to each of your classmates at the end of your presentation?"  

"No."

"Okay", I said with a smile.  Then I changed the subject.  Suddenly, as if awakening from his self-made nightmare, he cried, "wait, wait... I want to bring Lollipops!  I want to bring Lollipops!"

"I knew you would like bringing Lollipops to school, Caleb.  That's why I offered them to you.  But you would rather fight me, refusing the very best candy in the world, rather than just receiving and saying thank you."

Tears were spilling down his face and soaking his Superman blanket by this point.

"Caleb, because you would rather be contrary than receive good from me, I am not going to give you another chance to earn them again.  They were a gift that you refused.  Next time... think before you turn down my offers."

First thing this morning I made him his favorite breakfast - homemade pancakes with bacon and strawberries.  I cut his stack of hot cakes up and brought syrup to the table.  He looked at the syrup (not our usual brand) and said, "I don't like that kind of 'dippy' I want the kind I like."  

I smiled and said, "we are all out of that kind, but you can have this kind or none at all."

"I don't want any" he concluded and so I turned to my four year old and squeezed the sticky goo liberally upon his already drenched stack of pancakes.  "Yummy" he exclaimed.

Again my first born was knocked from his supremely heroic high-horse, as he cried out "I want some...."

My words echoed last night's conclusion:  "I know you like "dippy" that's why I offered you what I had to give, Caleb.  But you would rather fight me, than take what I am trying to give you."

"You won't give me the syrup now?"  He asked in complete shock.

"No, my boy, I will not."

And then I reminded him of the day we went to Disneyland just the two of us.  I had pointed out "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride" and reminded him of the fun we had had reading "The Wind and the Willows" together.  "Want to go on it, Caleb?  There isn't much of a line now."  He shrugged his contrary shrug and said, "No."  And so I smiled and we walked away.  Barely out of fantasy land and he stopped, breathless, all power-gone, and simply said, "I wanted to go on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride."

On that contrary day I had spoken similar words to my beloved contrarian:  "I knew you would like it, Caleb. That's why I offered to take you on the ride. But you would rather fight me,  than receive the good things I want to give you."  And on we walked to discover more fun together.

When I write the words down this way I seem so calm and collected.  But know that it takes all of my own super-strength to carry on lovingly forgiving, consistently correcting, and gracefully displaying tenderness in the face of his childish ways.  

So where does that super-power of love and grace come from when I can better identify with Lex Luther than any super hero?  It comes from the Super-One who loves me unconditionally, forgives me graciously, and corrects me consistently.  He is my parent as I parent Captain Contrarian.  And so I want to love my child as my Father has loved me, to surrender to the forgiveness that my Father has lavished first on me, to walk in the gracious footsteps that have led the way, and to stand firm in the same consistent correction that my Father has shown me in the fire of his love.

Stand firm, sweet Mamas.  Take deep breaths.  Pray before you respond.  Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.  Press on.  In His strength.  in His Super-power!

Let us not grow weary in doing good,

for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart!

I had a bouquet of dead daffodils on my dinning room table all day today.  It amazes me how quickly beautiful flowers wither and die.  The fragrance goes from heavenly to rotten in the course of a day.  Astounding that we too can go from a glorious mountain top in the morning, to the deepest valley by mid-afternoon. Full of "Yeses" and smiles for our children as the sun ascends, only to melt-down as they do.  

By God's Grace today was not one of those days.  Today my day began bright and early, (or rather dark and early, since the sun had yet to rise.)  I had my tea, read a handful of Psalms, and even enjoyed a hot shower before the boys awoke.  Not usual.  

And so my heart was full and my eyes bright as we began our day together.  

The day was as temperate as my morning had been, and only descended into the Valley in the last hour before bedtime.  Since my husband is on a business trip tonight, I tucked all three man-cubs into their beds on my own. It was then that I began to lose my patience.  The chapter of "Little Men" I'd offered to my eldest was taken away because of tired fits, (his not mine) which only made him cry harder.  Finally he calmed down and asked me in a gentle voice "Please Mama, please read me a few pages.  I'll calm down now.  Please, Mama."  My withered daffodils reminded me to finish strong, to bloom to the end of the dying day, and to give a fragrant "Yes" even when "no" would seemingly end both our exhausted sufferings. 

And so I told him to wait patiently on his bed. I took a few moments to throw away my dead flowers and clean the vase, and felt renewed by the action.  And when I came to him, with our cherished novel tucked under my arm and a glass of water in my hand, he smiled.  

There are ups, so many ups.  And there are downs, so many downs.  The miracle of God's work in my life on these ordinary days is when I feel myself descending and sense my attitude starting to reek, and then experience His lifting.  HIs gracious lifting.  His breath giving strength to my heart and to my hands.  His love anointing my lips to smile, speak words of life, and persevere just a few minutes more.

Today His sun rose and set on the beautiful bouquet of my life.  By his Grace.

Now the children are all asleep and I want to reread the verses I had read this mornings.  I want to end this day on the mountaintop, take in the view, and say Praise Be and Goodnight with a shout!

Praise Be!

Goodnight.

A friend sent out a Prayer Request on Facebook one day asking everyone to lift up sincere prayers for a family friend of theirs; a young man named Keinan who had a terrible football injury.  The Doctors, she reported, "have no hope."

Immediately I closed my eyes and bowed by head, hands falling from the keyboard to my lap as I prayed for Keinan.  And as I spoke to God, he began to speak to my heart.  "No hope?..." the words came soft.  "No hope?..." I heard them again.  Not a statement, but a question.

This morning I took Asher to the imaging lab to get an x-ray of his back.  My little guy has been complaining about back pain on and off for quite a few months and when I finally mentioned it to his Doctor the man's reply was instant, "Three year olds shouldn't have back pain... we'll look into this right away."

No results yet, but my mind has been under attack by all sorts of negative imaginings.  Is it a tumor?  A rare bone disease that will fuse his vertebrae together?  A chronic muscular disorder that will only increase his pain as he grows?  Goodness, we don't know anything yet, but these hopeless thoughts are pelting me and requiring that I choose faith today.

On top of that my husband is going to the Cardiologist this afternoon for some testing himself.  He's been having heart palpitations and discomfort for a couple of weeks.  That's all we know right now. But it's enough to require me to submit my mind and heart to faith.

"No hope?..."  Of course I have hope!  

While we haven't heard one negative assessment or diagnoses yet, what if we do?  What if either or both of my guys need serious treatment or surgeries?  What if their lives are threatened?  What if life as we know it has to change in some drastic way?  I know this is unrealistic thinking today, given all we know or don't know, but what if I hear a Doctor say "we've no hope"?

My hope is built on nothing less

than Jesus' blood and righteousness.

I dare not trust the sweetest frame,

but wholly lean on Jesus' name.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,

all other ground is sinking sand;

all other ground is sinking sand.

When Darkness veils his lovely face,

I rest on his unchanging grace.

In every high and stormy gale,

my anchor holds within the veil.

His oath, his covenant, his blood

supports me in the whelming flood.

When all around my soul gives way,

he then is all my hope and stay.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,

all other ground is sinking sand;

all other ground is sinking sand.

My 8 year old is at school today.  Right about now he should be taking his Science test.  One of the things he's been learning is the different layers in a sampling of soil.  A soil profile is a slice of dirt that shows all the different layers and what they are made of.  Last night Caleb reviewed them with me and explained them each to me.  First there is the leaf litter, then the top soil followed by the sub soil, next comes the weathered rock, and finally, at its foundation, bedrock.  When Caleb pointed to the bedrock he said, "This is the bedrock.  It's solid.  It's like when we build our lives on Jesus."

"Thank you, Mrs. E!"

Why is a firm foundation so crucial in our lives?  Because when we build our hope on the top soil, which shifts constantly, and the waters come down during the stormiest of days, lives fall apart, and hope with it.  But our lives and our Hope are established forever on the bedrock, the firm foundation of Jesus Christ.  When we accept Jesus as our Savior from sin we are made right in our Relationship with God the Father, and inherite an imperishable Hope built upon an everlasting Bedrock. When our hope is grounded upon the One who has numbered our days, knows us by name, forgiving each transgression of every saved sinner, we stand firm.  We stand firm.  Our hope has been established forever, eternal, everlasting, in Heaven. 

With all these things in mind, dear sisters, stand firm and keep a strong grip on the teaching we passed on to you both in person and by letter. (2 Thessalonians 2:15)

"Though the grass will wither and the flowers fade, (though disease and unexpected storms rage against us) the Word of the Lord abides forever."  (Isaiah 40:8 )  Jesus has gone ahead of us to prepare a room for us in His Father's house where we will know everlasting peace, health, and Joy in His Presence.  Forever.

*  Once again, this is a post dedicated to those I know who are currently battling disease and hardship unlike any I have ever known.

There were many words of wisdom Matt and I received from our pre-married counselor, words that I come back to again and again over the years.  One of those pearls began with a question to me:  "Wendy, what are you most afraid could happen in your marriage?"  It took me but a second to respond, "I'm scared that I'm going to serve and serve and serve, and eventually I'll end up losing myself."  Pastor Ken looked Matt square in the eye and asked him, "Do you hear this?"  Then he turned to us both and said, "If you both lay down your life for one another, to serve each other, then both of you will still have your life, because the other has picked it back up.

It's a beautiful picture, and one that has stoked my fire again and again in our marriage.  And yet it hasn't always been such a balanced act of laying down and picking up, taking care and being cared for, and I fight to maintain my life in our home.  I think that is normal.  And yet laying down our lives for our spouse isn't what this post is about...  read on.

In marriage we are called to serve our husbands, ever-hopeful they will be there to appreciate, affirm, build up, and love us back.  But where our children are concerned, the self-sacrifice often goes unnoticed as it is constant and the most natural part of our moment to moment lives.  And many of us can get lost in the process, and do, with little ones underfoot.  And yet I adamantly believe that God has a desire for mothers to actually lose our lives... and gain them during this intense season of sacrifice.

For whoever wants to save their life will lose it,

but whoever loses their life for me will find it.

Matthew 16:25

I've mentioned before that I love equations, especially now that I'm a busy mom, mothering three boys and far outside of my comfort zone much of the time.  I want to know that if I abide in Christ I will bear fruit, I want to know that when I bring my prayers and petitions before the Lord with Thanksgiving, the peace of God which surpasses all my understanding will guard my heart and mind in Christ Jesus.  I like simple, do-that-and-you-will-expereince-this equations.  But it's not that simple.  It's meant to be, but it's not because of our failed world full of illness, bitterness, and sinfulness.  Sin complicates everything!  But this verse above is pretty straightforward and, eternally speaking, I don't think we can mess it up to much.  

If I want to save my life, in my marriage, getting all the things I think I deserve here and now... then that will be my reward.  My riches I receive here on earth will be my great treasure.  But in the end my self-love will cost me great gain in the everlasting life to come. 

"But!" Jesus goes on to say, "Whoever loses their life (laying it down) for me will find it!"  Moms, this is for us!  If we can find the blessed balance between caring for ourselves, because we are loved by our maker, and yet choosing to lay down our reward here and now, that we might follow Christ's example on Earth to gain life everlasting with Him when this one is done... we will know true reward, costly treasure; imperishable and lasting.

But it starts and ends with service, sacrifice, and surrender.  

When I had my first soft-skinned baby boy, I would awake to the sound of his newborn cries in the night and find myself already half way down the hall to his room.  Truly, my body would respond to his needs before I was fully awake.  It was natural for me to forsake my own sleep to nurse and hold and comfort my infant son.  But now, after 8 years of loving sacrifice, I find myself longing for some reward here and now.  (Yes, this is another one of my confessions.)  I'd like a bit more praise, a word or two of affirmation from the man cubs and their father who leads the pack; more sleep of course, that would be nice;  and help so that I can have some time alone or with friends.

I am learning to fit some me-time into our busy lives, so that I can take care of my heart, body, and spirit, and I'm teaching the boys to honor me with their thanks and their help at home, but God is also doing a work in my heart.  He is reminding me again and again that I am following Him, which is not easy.  Following Christ is a life of service, sacrifice, and surrender.  Following our Savior is following the example of the greatest love of all... a love that lays down its own life...  a love that gives all it has for the benefit of others...  a love that doesn't count the cost... and a love that stores its reward on the other side of eternity's veil.

Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life

for his friends.

John 15:13

" But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law...  If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit." (Galatians 5:22-24)

It's New Year's Day and the old is past.  The new sparkling year dances before us and we are filled with HOPE that 2012 will heap upon us the blessings of joy and health and happiness.  

As I took a walk with Asher today around our neighborhood I saw a man up on the hill above our home taking down his Christmas lights.  He had crafted an enormous cross on the side of the hill with the word HOPE written in Christmas Lights above it.  It was beautiful.  I cupped my hands to my mouth and shouted up to him, "Thank you!"  He called back, "You're welcome!"

We need HOPE in the New Year don't we?  I think we need HOPE even more than we need "HAPPY".  

My family went to the most fabulous New Year's Eve Party this year.  All of the families from our Sunday school class at church gather each year for a kid-friendly celebration.  There is music and pizza, a huge property for the children to run around, a trampoline, plenty of sweet treats, and then at 9PM we gather together to watch the ball drop in Time Square with 30+ kiddos blowing horns and rattling noise makers.  What fun!  

This year one of our family's was there with a heavier burden than most of us will ever bare.  At the beginning of December this mother of 4 was diagnosed with Breast Cancer.  They decided to wait until just after Christmas for her surgery.  On the 28th she went in for her Pre-Op of blood work and paper signing and received news that she is pregnant.  More meetings with Doctors followed and the new plan is to perform surgery in a couple of weeks, followed by radiation, but they will save Chemo until after that baby is born.  

As they walked into the home of our host on New Year's Eve I welcomed them with hugs and the words "Happy New Year" slipped out before I thought through my message.  The wife responded sheepishly, "Yeah, Happy New Year."  And the husband raised his arms and exclaimed "Happy Friggin' New Year."  We all laughed awkwardly together and hugged.

And while I longed to whisper in her ear wishes for happiness and health in the New Year, the words of my Pastor rang in my head.

 God isn't so concerned about changing our circumstances,

as He is changing us.

Let us not wish one another Happiness in place of Hope, or safety rather than change in our hearts and beings.  Let us Hold to Him and the Hope of being changed into His likeness in this New Year.  It may involved pain and suffering... it often does.  It may include heartache and surrender, as we let Him mold us into His image with His heart.  And let us put our trust in eternity rather than our Happiness here and now.

For those of you who have lost loved ones, lost jobs, lost health, lost Hope in the past year, I pray you God's nearness and strength, His support and goodness and favor. But if the circumstances don't radically and miraculously improve in the coming months, let your heart rest in the One who loves us and gave His Son for us, that we might have Hope in the life promised us beyond this one... where there are no more tears, no more sadness, no more illness... only Joy in His Presence.

 Yes, let us spur one another on toward this Great Hope in the New Year. Happy Hope of Eternity in the New Year!  (insert noise makers here)

Happy Happy we can be, that there is purpose in the pain, as we yield our lives to Him in the midst of it all.