A Feast of Joy

Winter rains are approaching.  Canadian geese flying south look stark white against the dark storm clouds.  From the comfort of my chair, I sip my coffee and watch the world outside my window.  I reach for my book.

My  mom loved daily devotionals.  Often she would gift us girls her latest treasured find.  Max Lucado was always one of our favorites.   While going through my parent's things, we would find Mom's devotionals tucked away into different spaces; lending proof Mom always had one of her books close at hand.

It's hard to recall exactly where I found it, but somewhere in their home I stumbled upon Safe In The Shepherd's Arms.  As it was written by Max, I pick it up.  It is a small little book not much bigger than my hand.  The subtitle reads "Hope & Encouragement from Psalm 23"; Max has written short sections on each one of the Psalm's 6 verses.  My siblings gave me their approval and I took the book home.

With Christmas time approaching, I decide it would be a good time for some Hope & Encouragement.  Every day before work, as I eat my breakfast, I open the book and read one of the sections.  Today I do the same.
 
I have the day off work and everyone has left for the day.  Our home is quiet sans the soft tick tock coming from the clock my dad made.   The rains have begun to fall.  I open the book and begin to read.

I am at the book's last chapter focusing on verse 6.  "I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever".  

My parents are in God's house now, I thought.

Max writes reminding us our home is not here.  Life is hard, sickness comes, death happens, there are lasting hurts from deep pain.  He finishes by saying:

"Remember this: God never said that the journey would be easy, but He did say that the arrival would be worthwhile.  He may not do what you want, but He will do what is right...and best.  He's the Father of forward motion.  Trust Him.  He will get you home.  And the trials of the trip will be lost in the joys of the feast."

My hand reaches to turn the page and I discover Mom's bookmark.  My eyes well with tears at the thought of Mom's last words read from this book pointedly acknowledge her difficult battle and promise a great reward.

Then God nudged me and said, "Read that last line again."

And the trials of the trip will be lost in the joys of the feast.

The words were no longer about Mom, the words were about me.  God reminded me the difficult journey the last two years would be lost in the joy of the feast.  From the comforts of my chair, it is hard to imagine joy so great it can erase pain this deep.  

Yet, I will believe it. God is known to do great things.

May we all find some joy in the feast this Christmas.