Consider It Pure Joy; aka Your Problem is Your Gift

 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  James 1:2&3
 

Last night, before I turned off the lamp to go to sleep, I clicked my tongue and coaxed our calico kitty, Jordan, up on the bed.  I stroked her soft back until she started purring and curled up by my side.  This little cat has become more dear to me than I ever thought possible.  I’m now horrified to admit that there was a time when, considering Jordan, I thought, ‘This is a temporary problem.  Cats don’t live forever.’

I’m a tried and true dog lover, NOT a cat person.  Almost two years ago, when Jeff and I got married, I gained two cats.  The first night I spent at my new home, I realized cats know nothing of boundaries.  They were all over everything I owned and all up in my personal space.  I woke up in the middle of the night multiple times to Jordan trying to sleep next to me, and once with her sniffing my hair.  I was incensed.  On the phone with my mom the next day, I vented about it and consoled myself with the idea that the cats would eventually pass away.  Since then, Jordan’s counterpart, Payton, has died and I deeply feel the loss.

This is because these cats – my big problem – became my gift.  Today, Jordan slept on my lap as I typed and I stopped to just pet her and thank God for her.  As a new stay-at-home mother, she has become my faithful companion.  Jordan follows me around during the day, and is a part of the rhythm of this new life.  She makes me laugh by taking ownership of Luke’s stuff – his play mat with the hanging toys, especially.  Luke’s crying tends to stress me out.  It seems like God has a way of placing Jordan right next to me when he’s got a good scream going.  She purrs contentedly, inviting me to pet her, almost as if she’s modeling how to be calm in the storm.  The Brooke of two years ago could not have conceived of typing this lengthy homage to a cat.  The weird cat who sniffed my hair in the middle of the night, too!  But again, it’s because my problem is now my gift.

In James 1, we are told to consider our problems “pure joy”.  Most people can think of some issue in their life that God used for good.  Sometimes our problems create character in us, or sometimes – like with me and Jordan – we come to know the problem more deeply and can see it (her) in a new, more loving light. 

Here’s the thing:  in my experience, it’s always a reflective, looking back sort of revelation. 

What if I could see a problem as a gift before I know why or how it’s a good thing?  What if on that first night of experiencing living with cats, I had decided to have a joyful outlook on the situation, like the James verse?

I can’t go back to that cat fiasco night, but I definitely have some problems right now.  There’s one in particular that just doesn’t seem to have a positive way out.  So, I don’t understand how it will be a gift – whether God will teach me something, or have me meet someone who’s also struggling, or whatever – but I can go ahead and be joyful that this problem exists in my life.  I started thanking God that I’m struggling in this area.  I stopped trying to guess how He’s going to make it better.  It feels really, really strange to not put all my mental energy into fixing the problem (like waiting for the cats to die, or training them to not lay on my clean laundry, back in the day…).  It doesn’t really matter how.  I actually believe that at some point in the future, I will look back and be grateful that this problem was a part of my life.  The answer isn’t here yet, but the joy is. 

Now, I’m going to go curl up in my cozy bed and go to sleep.  Jordan’s already got a spot warm for me.

Wagon Ruts

Recently, I’ve been seeking greater freedom with my eating habits.  My whole life, I’ve had a sweet tooth.  My dad and I used to joke about how specific our cravings were.  I’d ask him for some chocolate and we’d get nitty gritty: “I want milk chocolate with caramel.  Do you have anything in that category?”  Being a fellow sweets lover, he could usually accommodate my craving from his candy stash.  As an adult, I’ve realized that there’s more to my eating habits than just enjoying junk food frequently.  Food serves as a stress reliever, a comfort tool when I’m anxious, which happens in some form every day.  Making changes in this area has proven challenging.  I relate it to an analogy I heard on a podcast about a wagon leaving the road ruts it’s been following.

Lord, I’ve been on this road for most of my life,

I know it so well, I don’t even have to think to stay on this track.

When I’m stressed, I eat something unhealthy,

When I’m tired or having a rough day, I skip my usual exercise.

When I feel like God is disappointed in me, I watch TV and avoid my Bible study.

When I’m in an argument, I cry and start to shut the person out.

These are some of my ruts.

Today I looked up, Lord, and actually paid attention to where my wagon was going.

The way I’m handling stress doesn’t bring lasting peace.

The way I’m thinking about You isn’t based on truth.

The way I communicate through difficulties isn’t as gracious or as loving as I’d like to be.

I don’t like where I’m going, but these ruts are so deep,

So familiar,

So …..me.

I tried to turn and redirect my course.

For the last month, I’ve eaten my meals at the table instead of in front of the TV.

It wasn’t a radical turn, but it certainly was different than the path I’d been on,

And it certainly took some oomph to make a new road.

With each day, this new path is feeling more routine,

I like where this is going and my next turn will be even better.

I’m not too afraid to leave the old path.

Sometimes, I look back at where I’ve been,

Who I used to be, who it was easier to be.

I resent that I was on that road.

Who wants to be someone who can’t eat just one cookie, but finishes all of them?

There’s shame on that path,

And fear that I may easily slip back to that course

If my new ruts are too shallow.

So, Lord?

Will You please help me?

Guide me where You want me to go?

Deepen the ruts that lead to freedom and peace,

And let flowers grow where I’ve already been.

I want to look ahead with joy,

And look back to find beauty covering my past.

I keep hoping that I’ll eventually get it all right,

Have no problems with food or relationships or my attitude.

That I’ll end up on a road that I can just stay on,

Without having to work or trust You in something uncomfortable.

But that’s not how this life works.

You’ve always got something new going on,

That requires me to let go of the old and embrace Your new.

So the next time I need to turn,

The next time I need to leave my comfy, deep ruts

And sink my wheels into new ground,

Lord, please deepen the ruts that lead to freedom and peace,

And let flowers grow where I’ve already been.

I want to look ahead with joy,

And look back to find beauty covering my past.