I thought I had prepared myself. I really did. Barrett and I have discussed how beginning this new chapel service at Foster would mean we would be attacked spiritually and to be on the lookout for it. We figured our marriage would be the main target, or perhaps kick back from people, or even just tiredness. That’s what I thought at least.
The first service at Grace Hill Chapel brought about 75 people to our condemned building (yes, its condemned, but we aren’t) and 15 kids to our skeletal child care ministry. We had a new drummer and singer join us for leading music and a few glitches with the sound, but all in all, I believe the Lord was honored. Scripture was read in public, we were called to worship Jesus, songs were song, prayers were lifted to our Father, and Barrett preached the gospel through the Word. People hung out for coffee, snacks, and stories until we had to close the building. Most of us then decided to continue our time over brunch. It was a sweet time.
So what happened? Barrett stayed late to work on the following weeks service and Annabelle and I went home. Then I got hit unexpectedly, with a wave of grief over her rebellious heart. I know, she was almost three at this point and all kids act up. But I saw myself in her. I saw myself in her desire to do things her own way in her own time. I saw her dance on the line of obedience while looking me straight in the eye. I could feel her defiance bubble up with each “NO!” and “STOP!” to me. I cried. I cried for the rest of that day and the entire Monday. I cried for her and me. Then I cried because I was crying. Then I cried because I wanted to potty train her and her defiance toward me made me cringe at how the training would go. I didn’t expect this as my spiritual attack.
How do I fight for joy and keep a grace-filled thankful heart? I try and help Annabelle do it, but can I? Tuesday came. Her third birthday. She woke up early due to a late night poop mishap and I asked Barrett if we should still begin training. Yes, it will never be a good time. He’s right. “Happy Birthday Annabelle!” The day went pretty smoothly and she figured out how to pee on the pot quickly. She was so excited to show Barrett when he got home, but when daddy opened the door with pizza in hand, tears were in his eyes. “Our bikes were stolen. They’re gone!” I didn’t expect that.
Long story short: We prayed to hold loosely to our possessions but also that the thief would be found. As Barrett and the police were giving and taking information, the guy who took our bikes drove by, jumped out of his truck and confessed. Our bikes were returned that night. He worked for our housing agency and thought they bikes were abandoned. I was awed at God’s grace. So Annabelle’s birthday was a chaos of unscheduled events that helped us see God’s blessings in our lives. Happy birthday sweet girl. We fought for joy in thanking the Lord in good and bad times. We fought for joy remembering how we have been forgiven for so much and how could we not then forgive this man?
It seems like a lot of Grace Hill folks were struck with discouragement this week. The Bible does say that we will suffer as Christians. That we shouldn’t be surprised at our suffering. In fact, “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
So as I type here on our government couch, the eve before we worship together again at Grace Hill, I am fighting for joy. I am choosing thankfulness and remembering God’s grace in Jesus. I cling to the promise of suffering leading to endurance, character, and hope. And I know that God’s love has been POURED out into my heart through the gift of the Holy Spirit. Man, this Triune God truly knows how to help His children fight for joy in all trials and circumstances. Lord, prepare me to fight again!