The beginning

Steeped in Joy.

Do you like the name? You probable guessed I do, since I get to be in charge of naming this little ol’ blog. Once upon a time I was reading this book called My Utmost for His Highest. (Oswald Chambers) It’s written as a devotional book, each date of the year has its own page.

On one particular day, he wrote about something.

I know, terribly descriptive. 
You see, dear reader, I can’t remember the date or the subject. However, the important part (at least I hope) was a phrase he used, which really stuck with me. He used the phrase, “steeped in joy.” And I rather liked it.

Many days have passed since I read Oswald’s little book of big-ish words, but the phrase has remained and caused me to contemplate joy and its relevance in my life.

If you’re a hot tea drinker, you’re probably pretty familiar with the word “steeped.”
Google dictionary defines it this way:

Steep: verb Past tense: steeped

1. soak (food or tea) in water or other liquid so as to extract its flavor or to soften it.

"the chilies are steeped in olive oil"

2. surround or fill with a quality or influence.

“a city steeped in history”

Webster includes:

to saturate with or subject thoroughly to (some strong or pervading influence) 

<practices steeped in tradition>

So, Joy would be the pervading influence, and I’d be the subject.

The past few years of my life have been intense. I see how God has orchestrated all of it, in part, to further my sanctification, in part to prepare me for future ministry. I’ve learned so much, I can hardly believe it, yet I know that I am far from the finished project that God has in mind. One important lesson that I’ve learned is that joy is not an emotion.

See, I went to public school all my life, and I think somewhere around 3^rd grade we learned about emotions. There was a chart of kids with differing expressions, representing different feelings. (Happy, sad, mad, you get the idea) Somehow I believed happy and joyful to be emotions, the kind that arise on “Christmas” morning to a mountain of presents under the tree. 
I’ve since learned otherwise.

Like most things that truly matter in life, joy doesn’t “just happen” to you. 
Sure there can be a cause & effect type situation.

Humans often feel happy when they get what they want.

But, I’m talking about something so much deeper than that.

See the joy that the Bible teaches about is not a feeling or emotion.

Similar to love, it is a choice.

It’s an attitude perpetuated by thankfulness.

And boy am I thankful that God does not give in to our every whim, but instead knows what is best for us in every moment of our lives... to more greatly glorify Him.

My story begins fall of 2010. I was working as a missionary in a small tiny town in central Idaho. One day I met Handsome, a local and my would-be husband. Then the whirlwind began! We met, started dating one month later, got engaged the month after that, married the month after that, pregnant the month after that!

I went from being a full-time, single, missionary to a pregnant wife in just 2 months. I was beyond excited for the new season of my life- the one I had been waiting for! I was experiencing my dreams come true. However, I was not prepared for the agonizing pain and nausea that accompanied my pregnancy. I had no friends or family to turn to in that isolated, snowed-in town. I had my new groom, but other than him, it was me and a pile of wedding presents yet to be put away.

Christmas was over and the cold and loneliness set in. I waited, with all the patience I could muster, for the nausea and vomiting {and snow} to stop. 13 weeks went by, then 14, 15, 18, 20, 22, 23. And finally that let up, but the severe pain increased and contractions began at 24 weeks. My doctor crossed his fingers that I could make it to 30 weeks. But God, knowing all, allowed our son to be born nearly 9 days late. (just 5 minutes shy) And in less than a second all of the thoughts about my pain and hardship vanished and the tremendous blessing before me brought me to tears.

This dear blessing, born gray and limp, was swept away before I could hold him or see his face. The Life Flight team was called, many tests were done, and lots of weary-eyed people waved goodbye as Little Guy was whisked off in an acrylic box to Boise's Children's Hospital about 3 hours away. It sounds so scary, and it was, but God's peace that surpasses our understanding embraced me and after 24 hours of labor, I fell fast asleep. Because of my strong conviction to avoid any/all drugs, I refused an epidural and narrowly escaped a c-section! Praise Him who gave me that conviction and knew how desperately I would want to leave the hospital where I birthed and head to the hospital where my newborn was.

I will say that I prepared as much as I could have for that labor and it did not go how I planned! But God's plan cannot be thwarted. He allowed the pain, the complications, the terror of what might happen next. He allowed Little Guy to endure a stroke, seizures, many tests, and monitors in part for my sanctification and future ministry. After a week, which felt more like an eternity, we were released and carried our fragile bodies back through the mountains, with our little one on oxygen and a heart monitor and a prescription regiment that forced me to be aware of the hours that passed in the gray days to come.

A few short days after we were home, I found myself alone with my little one and a thousand cords. The alarms were often sounding in my head and knocking me wide awake throughout the night. I experienced anxiety.  It was fierce and I didn't know what to do. God had a plan and a purpose for those feelings- to draw my husband and I close to Him and closer to each other. We depended on Him and praised Him with the never-ending good news we received from countless visits to all of our specialists.

I may not have known how to battle through the anxious days, the physical hardships that I faced and still face today. But, my trust has been in the Lord and the fact that, “He works all things together for the good of those who love Him.” I have clung to His Word and His plan for our lives. I did not understand that He was preparing me.

Now Guy ("Little" is no longer appropriate!) is more than 2.5 years old. He is enormous! Strong!! And, if I do say so, brilliant... and did I mention handsome {just like his Dad}? He has no residual effects of his stroke!!! He talks well and we converse all day long! He knows (most) letters, numbers, shapes and that you have to sneak up on hermit crabs to catch them. He adores his little brother {Bear} who is just 15 months younger than him. He is the sweetest kid, biggest hugger and a very special blessing that God has placed in my life. I cannot help but be humbled and praise His name.

I used to be a messenger of the Gospel to strangers, but God has allowed me a much more meaningful job: two eternal souls to minister to every, single day in my home. He has blessed me with hardships so that I may be made more like the Son and minister to those hurting in similar situations, but more importantly to these two children.

I'm not a finished project, my kids are not finished projects. Many days thus far have been difficult. Many days have ended in tears, stress, and feelings of defeat. In His mercy, God is shaping me, teaching me to take my thoughts captive, adjust my focus, and count hardships all joy.

nina the mom