Make Room for Joy Again

Somewhere along the way, life has a way of convincing us that there will always be time for the things we love—later, when the house is clean, when the laundry is finished, when the responsibilities settle down, when everyone else is taken care of. We tell ourselves we’ll get back to those things someday. But sometimes “someday” quietly turns into years.

As we grow older, it can be surprisingly easy to lose touch with the things that once brought us joy. Life gets busy. Families need us. Jobs demand our attention. There are errands to run, appointments to keep, bills to pay, and a thousand little things that seem more important than sitting down simply to do something we love. Before we realize it, those hobbies that once made our hearts happy have been tucked away in closets, boxes, or the forgotten corners of our minds. I’ve been thinking about that lately because I’m getting ready to return to something I loved years ago: pottery.

It has been several years since I’ve sat at a pottery wheel. Several years since I’ve felt a lump of cool, wet clay beneath my hands and watched it slowly become something beautiful. But recently, I found myself thinking about the studio again, and I realized just how much I’ve missed it. I can almost feel it already, the wet clay sliding between my fingers, the gentle rhythm of the wheel turning beneath my hands, the anticipation of seeing what might emerge from that shapeless lump. There is something almost magical about pottery. You begin with a handful of earth, something ordinary and unremarkable, and with patience, creativity, and a little bit of imagination, you can transform it into something useful or beautiful. I’m looking forward to getting my hands dirty again. More than that, I’m looking forward to finding that creative part of myself that has been waiting patiently to come back to life.

Maybe that is one of the gifts of getting older. We begin to realize that we don't have to spend every waking moment being productive. We don't have to justify everything we do by how useful it is. Sometimes it is enough to do something simply because it makes us happy. There is value in joy. There is value in creativity.

There is value in sitting quietly with a paintbrush, opening a book, planting flowers, taking photographs, writing words that may never be published, walking through nature, playing music, sewing, gardening, woodworking, cooking, crafting, or sitting at a pottery wheel with clay-covered hands and a smile on your face. Those things may not change the world, but they can change something inside of us.

I think we sometimes forget that we are more than the roles we have spent our lives filling. We are mothers and fathers, wives and husbands, grandparents, employees, caregivers, volunteers, homemakers and providers. We spend so much time pouring ourselves into other people that we can forget there is a person inside of us who needs nurturing, too. And perhaps that person is whispering, “Remember what you used to love?” Maybe it’s time to listen.

For me, that means pottery. It means walking back into a studio after years away and allowing myself to play with clay again. It means accepting that the first bowl might be crooked, the vase might collapse, and whatever I make may not look anything like the picture I had in my head. And that's okay. The point isn't perfection. The point is being present. The point is remembering what it feels like to create something with your own hands. The point is joy.

I think we need to give ourselves permission to rediscover those forgotten pieces of ourselves. Not because we are trying to turn back the clock or become the person we were twenty or thirty years ago, but because there are still new things waiting to be discovered within us. Age doesn't mean our creativity has to retire. It doesn't mean our curiosity has to disappear. It doesn't mean we've had our share of adventure.

There are still things we haven't made, places we haven't explored, books we haven't read, photographs we haven't taken, recipes we haven't tried, paintings we haven't painted and pieces of clay we haven't shaped. There is still life left to live. And maybe part of living it well means making room for the things that make our hearts come alive.

So I'm going back to the pottery wheel. I'm going back to the studio. I'm going back to the feel of wet clay slipping through my fingers and the wonderful uncertainty of wondering what my hands will create. And perhaps, in the process, I'll discover something even more important than pottery. I'll rediscover joy.

If there is something you've loved but haven't done in years, maybe this is your reminder to bring it back into your life. Don't wait for the perfect time. Don't wait until everything else is finished. Life will always have something waiting to be done. Make time for something that makes you smile. Pick up the paintbrush. Open the book. Plant the garden. Dust off the camera. Pull out the sewing machine. Take the fishing rod out of the garage. Sit down at the piano. Or, like me, get your hands covered in clay. Because joy doesn't always find us in the middle of our busy lives. Sometimes, we have to make room for it. And I intend to make room for mine.

The Christmas We Got Jesus on a Spring

It’s that time of year again—when Christmas is tiptoeing closer, and families everywhere are doing the annual shuffle of, “What are we doing for gifts this year?”

Between all of us, we’ve tried just about every system known to mankind—drawing names, setting dollar limits, rotating years, and of course, the ever-entertaining white elephant exchange. With our family still growing and most of us already blessed beyond measure, the white elephant once again won out. And that decision brings me right to the heart of this little devotional.

A couple of years back, several family members couldn’t make it home for Christmas. Since I’m one of those folks who believes Christmas is best celebrated with a houseful of people and a kitchen full of food, I invited some dear friends to join us. One of the couples was multicultural, and we explained our game plan: a big meal, lots of laughter, games, and sweet fellowship.

They kindly asked what they should bring. I told them food if they wanted—and maybe a gift for the white elephant exchange.

What I failed to realize back then was… they had no earthly idea what white elephant meant.

Christmas Day came, and the house filled with chatter, casseroles, and carried-in desserts. After we’d all eaten too much and rested just enough to catch our breath, it was time for the games. One of my daughters carefully explained the rules, and our guests caught on quickly—stealing gifts and laughing right along with the rest of us.

Then it happened.

When the gift our friends had brought was opened, every set of eyes in the room widened. Inside that little box was… Jesus. On a spring.

Yes, you read that right.

And wouldn’t you know it—I was the one who received the gift. Slowly, I lifted Jesus out of the box… and as soon as I did, He started to wiggle.

Our friends burst into laughter and explained they weren’t quite sure what kind of gift to bring, but they knew how much I loved Jesus—and they thought He’d be the perfect choice.

Standing there holding a wiggly, jiggly Jesus in front of my astonished family, I honestly didn’t know what to feel. Should I be horrified at the sacrilege of Jesus on a spring? Or should I laugh and accept their innocence and sweet intention?

Jesus was stolen a time or two before the game ended—but sure enough, He eventually made His way right back home to me. And by then, strange as it sounds, I’d grown rather fond of Him.

I noticed on the bottom there was an adhesive pad, meaning you could stick Him just about anywhere you wanted. I tucked Him away in a cabinet and wondered where in the world I’d ever put Him.

Days turned into weeks. Then one spring afternoon, I had a stroke of inspiration.

I stuck Jesus on our riding lawnmower.

I don’t rightly know why that idea tickled me so, but I figured it would give Him a front-row seat as my husband mowed the yard. The first time Phil cut the grass that season, Jesus wobbled back and forth on top of our John Deere like He was enjoying the ride. Phil didn’t notice Him at all until I pointed Him out when he pulled into the driveway.

“Don’t you like having Jesus with you while you mow?” I asked.

Phil smiled and said, “Why, yes… I do.”

A few months ago, the adhesive finally gave way, and Jesus tumbled off the mower. Phil brought Him inside, and I set Him right on the kitchen countertop. And now—every single day as I pass by—I glance at that little plastic Jesus on a spring and think what a precious, unexpected gift our friends truly gave us.

Because without even realizing it, they gave us a daily reminder of a powerful truth:

Jesus is with us wherever we go.
He sees what we do.
And He never leaves our side.

Our friends who gave us that gift are not yet saved—but they knew Jesus mattered to us. And ever since that Christmas, our jiggly little reminder has also nudged us to pray for them faithfully. Our hope is that one day they’ll come to know personally the Savior they once wrapped in wrapping paper.

So yes, that Christmas, we received Jesus on a spring.
And somehow, it became one of the greatest reminders of faith I never expected.

I hope this little story made you smile—but even more than that, I pray it made you pause and remember:

Even if you don’t have your own jiggly, wiggly Jesus, He is always with you.
You may not see Him.
You may not feel Him.
But He is near—and He loves you more than you’ll ever fully understand.

Hold on to that truth this Christmas. And if your heart gets a little heavy, just picture my Jesus bouncing along on a lawnmower… and smile.

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the simple, unexpected ways You remind us that You are always near. Thank You for laughter, for sweet friendships, and even for the moments that catch us by surprise and point our hearts back to You. As we celebrate this Christmas season, help us to remember that the greatest gift we could ever receive is Your Son. Draw our loved ones closer to You, especially those who do not yet know You. Let Your presence be felt in our homes, our conversations, and our daily lives. May we live in a way that reflects Your love everywhere we go. In Jesus’ precious name, Amen.

Thanksliving: A Life of Grace and Joy

Thanksgiving has always been a special time to count our blessings. We pause to thank God for His goodness, gather around the table with loved ones, and express gratitude for all He’s provided. But one day, as I reflected on how fleeting that holiday feeling often is, God quietly revealed something deeper to me. Gratitude shouldn’t be reserved for a single day—it should become our way of life. I realized what I truly wanted to practice wasn’t just Thanksgiving—it was Thanksliving.

Thanksliving is living every day with a heart of gratitude, not just speaking words of thanks when it’s convenient. It’s about waking up each morning aware of God’s presence and grace in the ordinary moments—the sunrise, the laughter of a loved one, the peace that comes from prayer. It’s a steady rhythm of recognizing God’s hand in both blessings and challenges.

In Luke 22:19, as Jesus gathered with His disciples at the Last Supper, the Bible says, “And He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is My body given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.’” Even in the shadow of the cross, Jesus gave thanks. The Greek word used there is eucharisteo, meaning “to give thanks.”

Hidden within that one beautiful word are two others:

• Charis, meaning grace

• Chara, meaning joy

So when we give thanks—when we practice eucharisteo—we are recognizing God’s grace and discovering His joy. True gratitude flows from seeing His grace in every circumstance, and that recognition fills our hearts with joy that can’t be shaken.

Paul reminds us in 1 Thessalonians 5:18, “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” That doesn’t mean every situation will feel good or easy, but it does mean God’s grace is always present—and His joy is always possible.

Thanksliving means choosing to see grace where others see problems. It means smiling through uncertainty because you know God is still good. It means giving thanks before the miracle, not just after. When we do this, every day becomes a day of worship.

As Psalm 100:4 encourages, “Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise; give thanks to Him and bless His name.”

This Thanksgiving season, and every day beyond it, may we move from being people who say thanks to people who live thanks. For when gratitude becomes our lifestyle, joy becomes our constant companion.

---

Lord, help me live each day with a thankful heart. Teach me to recognize Your grace in both the sunshine and the storm. Let my gratitude overflow into joy so that my life reflects Your goodness to others. May I live not just in thanksgiving, but in Thanksliving.
Amen.

Where's my joy?

This morning, I stood at my bathroom mirror inspecting my reflection. A woman I barely recognized looked back with empty eyes. “Who are you?” I asked. There was no response. That's when a few random thoughts popped into my head - "Where's your joy? When was the last time you were truly happy? When did you last laugh?"Hmmm...I had no answers. Something was wrong. Was I depressed? Possibly. I thought I was just fine. I sure looked just “fine.” Everyone said so. But was I really? The more I thought about it, the less sure I was. 

I've always tried to be happy. I've done my best to keep a positive outlook on life, but when feelings creep in, they have a way of stealing joy. When things we can't control happen, it's easy to get discouraged, to feel a little down, and to let the joy slip into sadness.  

People always say you have to move past the things you can't control. They tell you to just let it go and move on, but that's not an easy thing to do, especially when those you love are involved and are part of the problem.  

Growing old is difficult. It's easy to feel insignificant and unnecessary when the kids are grown and don't have time for you. Of course, as parents, we realize they won't be around forever. They grow up and have lives of their own, but what about us? What about trying to keep your parents in the loop? What about making them feel loved and wanted, like they're important and they matter? 

I was always taught to love, honor, and respect my elders. I taught my children the same virtues and for a while, they did pretty well with them, but over the years, they've started to slip. Maybe it's the culture. I don't want to make excuses for them. It hurts my heart that they don't see the longing in our eyes when they make the occasional visit. We want more time with them. We need more time with them. We crave it, but we don't want to come flat out and tell them...but, boy how we wish they'd get it. 

One day they'll be old and they'll find themselves in the same boat. They'll wait for the day a call comes and the person on the other end of the line says, "Hi, Mom! I was thinking about coming by for a visit today. Are you up for it? " And before the conversation ends, a huge smile spreads across their face with anticipation. Their heart wells with joy at the thought of seeing flesh of their flesh, being enveloped in love, and being allowed the gift of time together.  Then, maybe, they'll understand the loneliness, the longing, the loss of joy that comes when parents age and children do, too. 

Hiking in the Rain

Some days you just get antsy and have to get out of the house. That's the way I felt yesterday. It was a dreary, gloomy day and was drizzling rain but I knew if I stayed inside, I'd get depressed and I didn't want that. After talking with my husband, we decided to pack a picnic lunch and head for our closest state park. Weekdays aren't normally busy. 

Pulling out our big Buccee's insulated bag, I quickly made sandwiches, bagged up some chips, gathered fruit, and slid drinks into the bag. Next, I tucked in paper plates and napkins. Within fifteen minutes the bag was packed, I'd grabbed a jacket, and we were out the door. 

It was spitting rain as we drove to the park but we didn't mind. The weather app said it'd be letting up soon so we were hopeful. 

We arrived at the park and half an hour later and found hardly a soul visiting. Our stomachs were growling so first stop would be a covered pavilion where we could eat without getting wet. It was nice to feel the cool breeze as we downed lunch. When we were through, we drove to a trailhead, pulled out our hiking poles, and started out. 

The forest floor was damp from earlier rains but we didn't mind. I wished I'd thought to put on my hiking boots instead of wearing my new Hokas. I knew I could wash them but didn't want to get them covered in mud. 

We hiked a few miles then stopped for a break. The sky overhead had turned a brilliant blue and the moss on the trees was a neon green. Tiny purple violets dotted the woodland floor as birds overhead called to each other. 

Being outside always makes me feel at peace and brings back so many childhood memories of swinging on vines over creeks or playing Army with my siblings. Those were such happy, carefree days. 

We stayed in the park until 5:00 pm then headed home. It had been a very relaxing day, one I desperately needed. 

I'm so thankful we buy annual park passes. As seniors, we can get them at a discount. Twenty-five dollars is a small price to pay for unlimited visits and we have so many parks to choose from. That makes me extremely happy. 

 

Modern Day Leper

Yesterday we had a new dishwasher installed. The man who came to do it was fast and efficient. We did our best to make him feel welcome in our home, talking to him about various and sundry things as he worked, but we could tell he was uncomfortable. He wore a mask and gloves - of course we knew it was due to Covid concerns, but it seemed so unnecessary. 

When he finished his work, we thanked him and I offered a gift of gratitude. Though he accepted my gift, he made sure my hand never touched his gloved one. When I stuck out my hand in thanks, he thrust his elbow at me. "Oh," I said, "I get it. Covid. Okay." With that, I gave him the acceptable elbow bump and he was on his way. 

I felt like a leper. 

I don't do well with rejection. It's been a thing since childhood. Rejection hurts, no matter how large or small it may be. 

Thinking about the worker's fear of contracting a disease from us made me feel sorry for him. I understood it and respected it, but wished he'd been more open to our hospitality. 

That led me to think back to Biblical days, where true lepers existed. Back then, leprosy was considered not only a health risk but a curse for some unconfessed sin. People with leprosy were considered outcasts and forced to live away from society. Alone and abandoned, these people suffered terribly. Their skin condition caused all sorts of problems as it disfigured their body but the emotional toil must have been much greater. 

I've seen movies on the Bible where lepers entering a town had to call out, "UNCLEAN, UNCLEAN." Their warning was meant to keep healthy individuals away. How painful that must have been for them, to not only suffer physical maladies but to suffer social anguish, too. 

Lepers still exist in the world today. In Africa, Asia, and other parts of the world, there are colonies of lepers living together. Many organizations work to help them receive medication and treatment for their disease, but still, the stigma of uncleanness follows them. 

I've often wondered what it would have been like to have lived in Bible times. With my heart of mercy, how would I have responded to a neighbor or friend with leprosy? Would I have shunned them or tried to help them? I'd like to believe I would have done whatever necessary to give them aid. 

I find it interesting that Jesus healed many with leprosy. He never condemned them, but had compassion on them. 

Can you imagine what it felt like for the leprous man to call out to Jesus asking for healing the one fateful day their paths crossed? He called out to Jesus saying, "Lord, if you're willing, you can make me clean." That man had big faith. He knew Jesus had the power to heal him and he wanted to be healed. 

Jesus could have just said, "Go, your faith has made you clean." But He didn't. Instead, He reached out and touched the man saying, "I am willing, be clean."

That touch...that marvelous touch must have lingered on the leper's arm for days afterward. How long had it been since anyone had touched his scarred and damaged skin? 

Can't you just imagine the power of Jesus' love flowing into the man's body as His fingers graced the man's skin? I can! I'm sure it was electrifying! Instantly, the broken man was whole. 

That's the kind of compassion Jesus has for you and me. He meets us in our brokenness and makes us whole again. He understands our struggles, our fears, our weaknesses and offers us His love, mercy, and grace in their place. 

I'm so thankful we have a Savior who sees us and cares deeply for us. He wants us to be whole. He doesn't force Himself on us, instead, He waits for us to approach. When we do, we must do so with boldness and confidence knowing He not only wants to help, He will help, for He is the lover of our soul. 

When Jesus commanded the leper to be clean, He didn't only cleanse the outside of the man's body. He also cleaned the inside. What joy the leper must have felt to have finally been made whole again! He was restored, set free, loved and accepted. The Savior had seen him, heard and honored his request, and he would never be called UNCLEAN again. 

Normal feels good!

Lush berries ripe on the vine

 Today was a gorgeous sunny day! After church, we decided to visit a local farm that was open for a few hours. They were offering to let folks pick berries - strawberries, blackberries, and blueberries. Since I'd already visited at the end of May for strawberries, we decided today would be a blueberry picking day. 

My husband and I checked in at the farm's checkout stand, picked up our buckets and headed into the fields to pick berries. We had arrived right when they opened so there were only a handful of people there and none of them were interested in the blueberries. It was nice to have the blueberry fields all to ourselves. 

We picked and picked for about an hour. The sun was getting hot, and we were so thankful we'd thought to bring our hats and sunglasses. 

A young mother and her little boy joined us for berry picking and we enjoyed listening to the little boy get so excited over every berry he found. Each time he'd spot a berry, he'd yell out - "Mom! I found a big one!" Of course, we couldn't help but laugh and be reminded of the times we'd brought our granddaughter, Heather, to pick berries with us. She'd done the same thing. 

As we moved down the rows of bushes, I let Phil pick the high berries and I picked the low ones. Everything was going along great and our buckets were getting full until I looked down and found my feet covered in ants! They were biting like crazy and all of a sudden, I was jumping up and down trying to get them off my feet. I should have remembered not to wear sandals. Last year, I'd had the same thing happen but it was too late now. 

I did the best I could to brush the ants off and move out of that area fast. Phil kept picking a little longer while I stood in a "safe zone." 

As I stood in the bright sunshine watching him pick, I took some photos of the berries and of my husband. As I was working, I realized how good it felt to be doing something normal for a change. I wasn't having to be concerned about any doctor's appointments. I wasn't having to be concerned about feeling bad or having an upcoming test. It was just a good day! How long had it been since I'd had a really good day, I wondered? It seemed like it had been a pretty long time. 

Me in berry bushes

It's amazing how much we take for granted when our health is good, isn't it? But when it's not so good, even the slightest thing can be a chore. 

We picked about 11 pounds of blueberries so I'd say we had a pretty productive day. Tomorrow, I'll be busy making jam.

I'm thankful I had the opportunity and the energy to go pick berries today. I'm thankful the weather was perfect and the farm was open, usually they're only open on weekdays. I'm thankful I got a chance to talk with little Issac and his mother as he was picking berries and to overhear his joy. I'm thankful the berries will provide months of deliciousness to our biscuits, pancakes, and toast. Most of all, I'm thankful I'm alive and can do something normal again. Normal feels good! 

I hope you don't take your everyday "normal" for granted. You never know when it could be snatched away from you by some rogue injury, illness, or disease. Be thankful for every day and for the many blessings that come your way. They're too good to miss. 

New month, new beginning

Today's the first day of a new month and I must say, I'm thankful. It felt so good to bid adieu to January and February. Neither of those months had been kind to me. 

I'm still sick. It's going on three weeks now and this junk just won't let go. I am so ready to be over it! Now that the round of antibiotics and prednisone are complete, I'm hoping and praying I don't take a turn for the worst. I'm continuing to doctor myself at home - taking lots of vitamins, Elderberry, and Tylenol. I'm also trying to get in some good fruits and veggies each day to pump up my immune system, but I can tell my body is weak and out of whack. Perhaps a good week long fast would do the trick...

It's another overcast day and it feels oppressive. Days like these make me feel sad and depressed. And since I know that, I try to counter with the weapon of joy. It's not easy to overcome depression with happiness but when you study the Word, there are so many verses about joy, it's hard not to be happy. 

Psalm 5:11 "But let all who take refuge in You be glad, Let them ever sing for joy; And may You shelter them, That those who love Your name may exult in You." What a powerful verse! Let all who take refuge in YOU be glad. Yes, that's exactly what I have to remember - because I am hidden with Christ, I have His protection and love guarding over me - that's a good reason for rejoicing. 

My word for the year was SAVOR and as I've focused on tasting and seeing that the Lord is good, He's interposed the word JOY. So I guess I'm supposed to not only taste and see that He is good, I'm also to rejoice in Him. They do seem to fit well together, don't they? 

In this crazy, mixed up world it's a challenge to seek joy but I think that's exactly what God wants us to do. When we focus on all the mess, we miss the message. He's still on the throne and He's still in control. That should give us hope, peace, and joy. 

So on this first day of the month of March, I hope you'll be a joy seeker. If you take time to look, you can't miss it. It's all around us. 

"Rejoice in the Lord always and again, I say rejoice." Philippians 4:4 The Hebrew word for rejoice is gil. It means to be glad, be joyful, to spin around. And that makes me think about my childhood. 

One Easter, when I was about 5 or 6, I got a new dress with a crinoline skirt. It was so pretty and flouncy, after putting it on I began to twirl around the room. Spinning around and around, in my little black patent leather shoes and my white lace topped bobby socks, I felt special. I couldn't help but smile! I was so filled with joy! It was rare to get a fancy, store bought dresses back then. Mama made all of my clothes, but that Easter, I had a complete ensemble including white cotton gloves and straw hat. I'll admit, I probably looked like a silly, little girl twirling round and round but I didn't care! I was happy and wanted everyone to know it. 

I think that's kind of how God wants us to be - unabashedly joyful! Maybe that's why Paul says "rejoice." RE-JOICE...DO IT AGAIN! And again, and again...TWIRL!!!! Yes!!! Thanks, Lord. I've got it now. " Rejoice in the Lord always, and again...I say rejoice."

Choosing Joy even when it's difficult

Being cooped up in the house during the pandemic has been challenging. Until a few days ago, I'd done reasonably well but realized I wasn't myself. Usually, I'm upbeat and happy but I'd found myself struggling with feelings of hopelessness and depression. That's when I realized, I'd lost my joy. 

These days, it's hard to find joy. Being separated from friends and loved ones is awkward and painful, but for someone with cancer related low immunity, it's not only a necessity, it could be detrimental to my health.

We've had a lot of gloomy, rainy days lately, too, due to a hurricane brewing in the Atlantic. Those gray days have also added to feelings of sadness.

I realized I'd experienced these feelings before, when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer. Back then, my physical maladies caused me to revel in self- pity. I was so me focused, I couldn't see anything else.

It took a while to realize what was happening. Becoming so comfortable with those feelings, I wore them like a heavy, woolen cloak. Days and days, I'd let the weight of that thick garment smother me but then, something happened.

One morning, as I sat at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee and looking out the window at a beautiful sunny day, I realized I'd lost my joy. The longer I sat there, the more I thought. "Where had my joy gone," I wondered, "And when had I lost it?"

Although I couldn't pinpoint a time and date, I knew it had to have been around the time of my diagnosis because that's when it felt like my world had fallen apart. And though it had been six years since surgery, I was still struggling with my emotions.

That's when I realized I had to do something about it. I had to get my joy back. There was no way I was willing to live under a cloak of darkness.

But I didn't know where to start or what to do. So I began to pray. I asked God to help me find my joy again and in my spirit, I felt Him speak to me, "Praise Me."

I thought I did a pretty good job of that already. I always got up early and spent the first part of my morning with Him. I made sure to spend time in the Word meditating. I always took time to pray but the more I thought about it, the more I realized, I was usually asking God to answer my needs and requests for those I loved rather than focusing on His character, His goodness, His mercy, and His grace.

So I decided that had to change. I was going to find my joy by focusing all my attention on Jesus. To do that, I was going to have to make myself intentionally focus on His love and I was going to have to shift my perspective. I was going adopt an attitude of gratitude.

Looking outside the kitchen window, I saw some beautiful red and white flowers on a plant my son had recently given me. "Thank you, Lord, for your beauty in nature. Thank you that my son wanted to give me a gift. Thank you he chose to come visit me." A few minutes later, two little house wrens jumped on top of my charcoal grill and began to tweet the most cheerful song to each other. "Oh, if I could have joy like that," I said, "Lord, I would be so happy!" Again, He spoke to my heart, "Praise Me."

Picking up my iPhone, I quickly found the My Music icon and asked Siri to find a praise and worship station. I wasn't in the mood for lyrics, so I chose an instrumental station. As I listened, an old familiar favorite began to play, "Bless the Lord, O, my soul" by Matt Redman.

As I listened to the words, my heart began to calm and I felt myself began to weep. All those feelings of pent up sadness began to flee. The light of worship was dispelling the darkness. My heart, in tune with His, was exactly where it should be - He focused instead of me focused.

Sometimes, we find ourselves in seasons where we must hunt for joy. During those times, it's important to be intentional about looking for reasons to express gratitude. Often, it's hard work. When a person is feeling down and depressed, the last thing one wants to do is express thanks. But it's in the thanking that joy explodes. Just like striking a match to a bundle of dry kindling, one small ember gives way to a blazing fire. We must be willing to pick up the match and strike it. To do that, one has to deliberately choose.

I'm so thankful God helped me realize how to regain my joy. My match was tapping on a cellphone app and allowing the words of a song to rekindle the fire of joy inside. As I sang along to the instrumental music, the words ministered to my heart as I praised God.

I made a mental note to choose joy. I knew this would become a discipline in my life but it would take practice. One of the ways I could implement this new exercise into my life would be to start each day by writing down three things for which I was thankful. I chose to end the day the same way.

As I've intentionally searched for reasons to be grateful, I've been able to see more clearly that God continually blesses me each day.

If there are two words I want you to take away from this post, they'd be - CHOOSE JOY. Though they seem simple, they take effort. But if you're willing to work at it, soon you'll find the practice of daily gratitude something you enjoy immensely. Before you know it, it won't seem like work any more, you'll see things and realize His great blessings without much effort at all.

We serve a good, good Father. He enjoys blessing us. That's why I think the psalmist wrote, "But you are holy, O you that inhabit the praises of Israel." Psalm 22:3

When we worship, the presence of the Lord dwells among us. That feeling of complete peace and love is enough to make any heart sing with joy. Try it! If you've lost your joy, you can find it again. I promise.

Today and every day, choose joy.

Lovely day, lovely day...

Oh what a lovely day it's been. The sun has been shining, the birds have been singing and all is right in the world...well, in my world anyway! It's rare to have a day when I feel as good as I do today, so I'm going to gloat in it for a bit. I'm extremely thankful for a good day. There's nothing better than feeling good both physically and mentally. It amazes me how much people take good health for granted but as soon as they lose it, they understand how valuable good health really is.


For me, most of the past two years and 7 months have been filled with pain so you can imagine how happy I am when I have a pain free day. In fact, I felt so good today that I washed and folded two loads of laundry, I vacuumed my entire house, I loaded and unloaded my dishwasher, put dinner on in the crockpot, and even put on the backpack blower and ventured outside to blow off the driveway, walkways, and the patio! I read two books, wrote an article for a publication on breast cancer, talked on the phone with 4 friends, texted numerous folks, and even spent a little time on Facebook. I'd say it's been a very productive day!

Thank God for good days! If you've ever struggled with poor health, you know what I'm talking about. Good days cancel out the bad days and help us focus on better things. Spring is just around the corner and I'm looking forward to many more good days. And what could make a good day even better? Why lovely music, of course...thank Bill Withers for groovy tunes. I love his song, Lovely Day and you can listen to it by clicking here.

Joy comes in the morning

"...Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning." Psalm 30:5b

Sunrise on the beach at Cape San Blas, Florida

New mercies every morning, Grace for every day, New hope for every trial, And courage all the way. —McVeigh

One of the things I enjoy most is being able to walk barefoot along the beach in the wee hours of the morning. Usually, I'm all alone except for a few birds as we wait expectantly for the rising of the sun. As I walk along the shore, I spend time in prayer. That precious solitude is sacred to me. In reverent awe, I pause to reflect over my life and I am filled with gratitude. I watch the birds catching tiny fish in the surf as the sun peeks over the horizon. The sky begins to change from a dusky gray to a soft, pastel pink as the sun works its way up. I raise my 35mm camera to my eye and begin to shoot. Every few seconds the sky changes color. Robin's egg blue appears, then subtly changes into a rich orange as the sun rises higher. I feel like I'm witnessing a miracle each and every time the sun rises and I continue to snap away. My heart is full of excitement as the sky begins to blaze with brilliant oranges and reds. Sunrise only lasts a short while and then, without warning, it disappears and the sun is fully up. The colors have faded into bright sunlight and the day has begun. 

This morning, I woke up bright and early. It was just before 6:00 a.m. and I padded quietly across the carpet into my office so as not to wake my sleeping husband. As I slipped into my office, I saw through the blinds, the beautiful colors of sunrise over the tops of the pine trees. I'm thankful our faces East so I can see the sunrise every morning. Although it's not as visible as the ocean sunrises because of the tall trees, I still enjoy it. I sat for the entire show and thought about how much difference a day makes. Yesterday I was distraught and feeling physical pain. I went to bed hurting but this morning, I am rested and looking forward to what the day holds. 

When King David wrote, in the Holy Bible, that weeping lasts for a night but joy comes in the morning, I wonder what trials he went to bed facing that night. I flipped back a few pages and began to read in Psalm 28. David was being persecuted and being treated unfairly by his foes. He was crying out to God for help and asking for vindication. As I read the Psalms, I often find David's words mirror mine. Although the circumstances are vastly different, I can relate to David's heart. It amazes me how God loved David so and used Him for His honor. Once, David was a lustful, sinful man. He was so filled with desire for one of his soldier's wives that he had her husband killed so he could be with her and yet...God loved him and gave him a second chance. 

Sunrises speak to me of second chances. Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. We may feel hopeless and helpless one day and the next morning, those feelings have disappeared with the night. Brilliant, beautiful shades of hope are on the horizon and we are renewed. I'm so thankful weeping doesn't last forever! Sometimes I feel like it might but it never actually does. 

My body still aches and my arms have already begun to swell but I'm learning this is part of my "new normal." I'm trying my best to focus on one day at a time and in so doing, I know each morning there will be a stunning sunrise just outside my window whether I'm at the beach or looking over the treetops. It's my choice to live with the hope of all the bright new tomorrows. Yes, weeping my last for a night, but joy does always come in the morning if we focus on how very much we're loved and treasured by God. 

Be thankful and look for the sunrises! You have to rise early to catch them. My internal body clock wakes me each morning in time to witness them but you might need to set your alarm a time or two so you can see their beauty. It's worth it, I promise! Be blessed today and be filled with hope! God loves you, you know. 

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Learning to move forward

Three words. Just three little words. They can change your life forever. For those of us who’ve heard them, we know the instant trepidation and fear that accompanies those three words, “You have cancer.” Almost immediately after hearing the words, the mailbox begins to fill with all sorts of pamphlets and information on cancer or cancer related items. The calendar is quickly inked with one appointment after another and life begins to revolve around a disease. That word, cancer, the one we all hate, snakes its way into almost every conversation and suddenly, there’s an internal radar that hones in on any and everything beginning with the letter C. After processing the initial shock of the diagnosis, treatment begins. Life becomes a whirlwind aggressively attacking those cells and doing whatever is necessary to eradicate them. Everything seems to move at warp speed and then, just like an F5 tornado, the storm is over and you’re left in the wake to pick up the pieces. Life is supposed to go on but how do we do it? How do we learn to transition from living life in the midst of cancer to living life after the storm of cancer has passed? There are no guidelines. There are no rules. We’re left to figure it out on our own.

As with each case of cancer, each individual is different. Some of us have wonderful support systems and some of us do not. Some of us operate out of fear, and some of us walk in faith. We are all wounded. We are all broken. We are all struggling. We are all different. We have been forever changed but we can’t live in the past. We have to move on. We have to decide whether we want to fight to live or live to fight. But how do we move forward? When treatment was finally over for me, I began to ask myself this question. I’d just completed my 28^th round of radiation. Physically weak and feeling exhausted, I didn’t have energy to do anything other than think, so I thought and thought a lot. In my mind, I kept hearing a loud voice whispering, “Now What?” What was next for me? The doctors wanted me to start on medication to keep the cancer from coming back. My appointments suddenly went from every 3 months to every 6 months. I was doing well and should have been celebrating. How fantastic! I was a cancer survivor. I should have been overcome with joy, but that feeling of joy never hit me. Instead of walking out of the oncologist’s office with my hands in the air shouting, I walked out more terrified than I had been on the day I’d heard those three little words, “You have cancer.” I began to wonder what was wrong with me. I became emotionally distraught. I needed to make a huge transition in my life and I didn’t know how. So I cried. I cried and cried and cried. And after the tears had run out, I decided I had to learn to move from a stance of “I have cancer,” to “I had cancer.” I would learn to put cancer in its place. Cancer is not a verb, it’s a noun. Yes, I used to “have” cancer, but I no longer “had” it and it certainly didn’t “have” me. I was going to figure out a way to move from being just a survivor to that of a thriver. Here are some things that I’ve implemented in my life to help me do just that:   

·         Watch your language! The first thing I did was learn to watch my language. The Bible says the power of life and death are in the power of the tongue and I firmly believe that. Words carry an amazing strength and often, we believe what we hear about ourselves whether good or bad. I wanted to learn to speak life over myself. I started to be very careful in conversations and began to shift my words from saying, “I have cancer,” to “I had cancer.” I started avoiding making negative comments about myself and started focusing on saying positive things. Just doing that simple exercise allowed me to set myself free from the grip cancer had placed on my life. I was putting cancer in the past and I planned on keeping it there.

·         See yourself worthy! The next thing I did was to begin to see myself not merely as a survivor. Even though I’d experienced a very traumatic life event, I needed to see myself differently. When I looked into the mirror, I tried not to focus on my scars. They are very visible but they don’t define me. When I see them, I try not to remember all the physical and emotional pain behind them, instead, I try to count them as battle wounds. I see myself as a victor. I’ve fought a battle I never intended to fight and I won! I came out on the other side. I was still alive! My life mattered.

·         Beauty is as beauty does! The third thing I did was to focus on always looking my best. It became important for me to wake up in the morning and greet the day boldly. After showering and dressing, I put on my makeup even if I wasn’t planning to go anywhere. I fixed my hair and gave myself a once over. I found that if I looked good on the outside, I usually would feel good on the inside.

·         Get out there! I made myself attend family functions and events. Sometimes I didn’t really feel like going but I knew if I made myself attend, I’d usually have a good time. I didn’t want to get stuck in a rut of staying home and isolating myself like I did much of the time I was in treatment. It’s important to be in social settings.

·         Find a creative outlet! A creative outlet is very cathartic. Journaling is a wonderful way of recording and processing thoughts. I find writing down what’s on my mind to be very healing. I also enjoy photography and painting. Find a way to express yourself. Whatever you create becomes an extension of you. Don’t worry about what others think. Do what you enjoy.  

·         Move past survivor’s guilt. It’s hard to wonder why some of us survive and others don’t. We have no control over that and we shouldn’t dwell on it. Learning to take an attitude of gratitude will help shift your mind from what “could have been” to “what is.” I keep a mason jar on my kitchen counter. On small slips of paper, I jot down things for which I’m thankful. I look for not only the big things but the little things, too. You’ll be amazed, when you start looking, how many blessings we receive every day.

·         It’s okay to mourn. Every once in a while, I find myself missing my breasts. They were a part of me and I have a right to be sad they’re gone. I don’t dwell on it long, but I give myself permission to remember them and miss them.

·         Accept your fears. It’s only normal to have a fear of recurrence after having been diagnosed with breast cancer. Every ache, pain, lump, or swelling can strike fear into the depths of our soul but, in order to move forward and thrive, we have to decide if our focus is going to be on the what ifs or if we’re going to have faith and trust that our future is held in the hands of Almighty God.

·         One day at a time, one step at a time. I’ve learned to take one day at a time. I no longer worry about tomorrow. By learning to live in the moment, I can focus on what’s going on right there and then. Life is so very precious and I don’t want to worry or wish my life away.

All of these things have helped me move out of cancer world into the heart of life. I hope you’ll find one or two helpful tips here and you, too, will learn to become not only a survivor but a thriver. We were meant to live a life filled with joy and hope and that’s exactly what I intend to do for whatever amount of time I have left on this earth. 

"Life and death are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit." Proverbs 18:21

"Therefore don't worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:34