Pure joy. Those two words are pounding through my head this morning as I fight to keep eternity in perspective. God tells his children to consider trials pure joy because they test our faith, and in the end, the man who perseveres under trial will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him (James 1:3 &12).
I remind myself that this agonizing pain of missing a son is pure joy. It is a constant battle between flesh and soul. One, I believe, that is a gift to fight. One that most days I would trade in a heart beat just to have one more hug, one more sunrise with a teenage boy walking down the stairs saying “Good morning, Mom,” one more night of sharing my cheese puffs. But Scripture calls it pure joy in its perfect, conforming, eternal benefiting form of chiseling my hands off of the temporary, shallow way of living that I used to indulge in.
I realized, again, that doctrine is not a substitute for God. I've concluded, after days if not weeks of unintentionally replacing my Savior with other comforts as innocent as my own beliefs, that God wants us to be satisfied with Him. Not who we think He is, or who our pet doctrines make Him out to be, but to find our complete satisfaction in who He really is. To behold Him in His glory as we stand in awe of Him; simply Him. Stripped of our preconceived ideas and merely loving our Creator. Melting in His holy presence and crawling into His lap to be held as a child, knowing that He has this all under control.
Sometimes I wonder how something so majestic can be so easy.
