This article has taken a few weeks for the right words to come together, for me to take all the thoughts rolling around in my mind and write them into clear, succinct sentences. I’ve spent time gathering ideas and the stories I want to share.
I’m wrapping up this article nestled in a coffee shop as I sip on a boujie drink they titled “butter coffee” – which is just as rich and delightful as it sounds. Early signs of spring are outside – we hear songbird melodies while the crisp air whips around us and at times smacks us in the face leaving our cheeks the perfect shade of rosy. The other day Alexander said with surprise, “I thought you liked springtime?” And I declared that I don’t. Every year I’m fooled. Although the sun shines more and weather begins to change for the better (some days), birds weave their nests and the earth begins to thaw, the damp cold feels bitter (and makes me bitter). I dislike going outdoors this time of year, but alas, we must endure before the true warmth of summer arrives and decides to linger.
Writing about the joys and sorrows of life, my children’s childhood, all the lovely books I read and study and theological thoughts and living how we were created to live make my heart beat. So I’m taking a spin on Sarah Clarkson’s work and beginning my own series – Beauty, Books, Childhood and Shabbat is what I’m naming these articles, these short musings I’m putting into the world, for readers, oh my beloved readers, just like you. So sip your tea or what have you and enjoy.
Beauty
Every year God impresses a word on my heart. This happens around mid-year, every year, and has happened for the last 13 years. I believe God has a desire to grow and nurture God-like attributes within me and He tends to use these specific words as a vessel. He has used these words to strengthen my character, impart wisdom in secret places, provide vision in motherhood and marriage, shown me where I still have yet to grow and mature because these words often reveal my faults and fears, areas where I lack. I, then, take the word and pursue it the following year.
In early spring of last year, as I was journaling, I had a beautifully intrusive thought that my word for this year was to be joy. My initial response was to cringe. Joy, at a glance, seems naive and ingenuous, almost too trusting… And yet, joy also feels like something nestled into the very fibers of my being waiting to be unleashed. Almost like a grounded and rooted part of creation that desires to be unearthed but can only become uprooted if sought out, and after much digging. I contemplated joy for the latter half of last year and I have thus begun my pilgrimage to unearth the joy that helped weave me together in my mothers womb.
Those who know me personally would not say that I’m a “joyful person” – and I still truthfully take pride in that. I don’t think someone would say that I’m not a joyful person, but joy doesn’t just ooze out of me. As I stated, joy feels naive and childish. I want to be seen as mature, sophisticated, well-rounded, put-together, wise. But this year I began to ask myself: can both exist in one human being? Can the same person embody both maturity and sophistication AND this deep sense of joy and trust and release? And with that, we look to Jesus.
Jesus was the “man of sorrows” and I’m learning He was also the most joyful man to walk this earth. Now I’ve said these statements in the past, but I don’t think I have actually known this joyous man. Jesus knew deep pain, I would argue, the deepest pain known to man. He experienced physical, spiritual, emotional, mental pain and loss. On His pilgrimage to the cross (which we now call Holy Week, and specifically Good Friday), His friends deserted him, His family didn’t believe him, he was scorned and his precious sinless skin was sliced with bits of rock and bone. A crown of thorns was impressed onto His head. Jesus was so frightened and saddened by his future death that he sweated blood. The deepest pain was being cut off by His own Father, no longer “one” with Him but separated like someone slicing an umbilical cord too early, deadly, lethal.
But despite all of this, even before any of this pain and separation happened, and Jesus knew it was to happen, he embodied joy. I imagine if you saw Jesus walking down the road you’d be like who is that guy, smiling and befriending everyone he meets? Little children must have thought that because they would go running to him and I imagine that he would start running alongside them, belly laughing with them as they rolled in the grass and then He would pluck a flower and point at the birds and talk about how he was with God when all of the world was created with a breath and spoken words.
Joy. Jesus embodied joy. Joy, to me, is a person. And that person is slowly becoming a dear friend.
As Holy Week is upon us, I’ve been contemplating this multifold joy that Jesus embodied and taught about, this joy that holds hands with sorrow.
On my journey of unearthing Joy, I found myself researching and becoming borderline obsessed with beauty. I’ve learned you cannot have one without the other and beauty also is a possible outcome of pain and sorrow, sometimes even fear and death. Just as the earth is currently waking back up from the death winter creates, beauty is on the cusp of being revealed. I heard Brandon Vaidyanathan say on a podcast that “the recognition of beauty is a recognition of a deeper truth. Some quality that is eternal.” God wove His deeper truths into the very dirt of creation itself. Just as the deepest growth is happening in winter, so is true for our own seasons of winter that can feel dry and bare, we are becoming naked and dry because the season that follows reveals shoots of growth and beauty.
Every year, during the lenten season, God unearths and brings healing to a very specific part of my soul and heart. He has done so now for over a decade – redeeming parts of my story I thought were unredeemable, touching intimate details of my life I thought no one else saw or could ever understand. The God I read about, heard about, has used this annual season to become my God leading up to our celebration of His death and resurrection. It’s as if something in me also needs to die before that same part of me can be unleashed and resurrected.
Sorrow, pain and even death can indeed exist within one human. His name is Jesus and because He can endure and encompass all of it, I know I can too. And because I’ve seen Him endure it with joy, I’m learning how to do so as well. This week I’m expectant to, once again, find beauty in specific things that need to die within me so that my joy may be complete in Him.
Books
I have taken a swan dive into studying joy. I began with a book I hoped would be filled with truth and whim and to my surprise it exceeded both. Aggressively Happy, written by Joy Marie Clarkson, is truly a book of whimsical, relatable stories woven together as she shares her own path to joy. The tagline is “A Realist’s Guide to Believing in the Goodness of Life” and her wisdom and stories match it perfectly. As a bit of a realist myself, it felt like the perfect book to read in the beginning of a year where I’m pursuing, with a bit of skepticism, joy.
In the book, Joy vulnerably shares her struggle to accept aspects of her faith in a good God, she speaks about befriended sadness, her jaunt towards marriage, work she does, and her travels. It is a good read, even if you’re not on your own joy journey – Joy will become a trusted friend as she imparts wisdom and helps you to laugh out loud while turning the page.
Childhood
I was reflecting on my motherhood season and thought about how gracious God is to allow motherhood to be an experience where we are allowed to live childhood over again. We get to see the world through the eyes of an innocent, needy, joyous little human being. God could have designed parenting to be full of blah – simply about rules and schedules and discipline. But instead, out of His kindness, He designed it to be full of laughter and “firsts,” wonder and lots of messes and excitement with our children bouncing around our table, who, as Psalm 128 reminds us, are full of energy and promise.
I’m not sure what my children will remember from their childhood but oh, I hope it’s good and beautiful things! Not too long ago I grabbed a scrap piece of paper and asked my kids and husband the question: if someone were to step inside our home for the first time, who would they say we are based on what they see? And words came spilling out of their mouths faster than I could write. We titled the list “Home at the Ramseys” and we put it on our fridge.
Our list includes:
- Good music, a mix of Christian, folk, children’s and 60’s hits
- Lots of books and novels
- Bread baking in the oven
- Candles in every room
- Minimal and clean
- Intentional play
- There’s a “home” for everything
- Simmer pots and yummy smells
- Coffee always available
As I’m watching my children get older, I’m feeling this STRONG desire to want to pause time, not quite yet, but I feel it in my heart that I will come to a certain season of motherhood and literally want to freeze time because time with my children is fleeting. Even as I write these words my heart is sinking into my chest making it hard to swallow. I simply want to soak up these days with them because these truly are the days.
I’ve learned there needs to be a lovely mix of spontaneity and planning out our days, so I have begun to plan out our summer days, and oh am I excited! I was given the vision of marking this summer as “a flourishing summer” The basis of my teachings with my kids will be to instill this notion of why they were created. The purpose we were created for is to know God, love God, glorify Him and enjoy God forever. I’m piecing together Bible verses and activities. Maybe I’ll give an update in a future post, but I’ll ask you the same question: what do you think you were created for? Why did God gift you with the things your hands love and are willing to do? And one more to chew on, how can you begin the very important act of teaching and leading your kids to do the same with their gifts?
Shabbat
When I was a Junior in college God tugged on my heart to stop. The initial stop was to refrain from studying or writing papers on Sundays, not out of negligence but truly believing I have done enough prep to get a sufficient grade, and this practice actually made me work harder during the week so my Sundays could be a day of delight and adventure.
If you have read any of my series on the Sabbath, you’ll know that the Ramseys are still Sabbath-keepers. And our latest rendition of the Sabbath has been to read a few chapters of a novel snuggled on the couch together in front of a sparkling fire. Our latest read was James and the Giant Peach, and after finishing it I made peach cobbler in celebration!
When I read Scripture and take time to really examine how God orchestrates His people to live and flourish, I’m blown away by the amount of celebration. In Nehemiah we read that as the Israelites were settling in their town just after the wall was rebuilt, Ezra began reading the Book of the Law of Moses (the first 5 books of the bible) to the people. And upon reading, the people began to weep and mourn. I’m assuming their sadness came from their lack of obedience and faithfulness to such a good God. If I were Ezra in this story I would have responded with, “yes, you better be mourning over your lack of trust and faithfulness.” I would have let pride rule in my heart, but that’s not how Ezra responded. Ezra knew how kind his God was, and that kindness and mercy was what the Israelites needed. Ezra also understood the grace of God, something I myself struggle to understand. Ezra’s response was so gentle and full of joy. He told the people to stop mourning and instead to celebrate!! Ezra, along with Nehemiah and other leaders, told all the people “This day is holy to the LORD your God. do not mourn or weep…Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some of those who have nothing prepared. This day is holy to our Lord. do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:9-10). And thus began the Festival of Booths. An entire week of celebrating what the Lord had done and accomplished, His faithfulness and mercy toward His people.
Since Jesus walked this earth, we don’t have to celebrate the Sabbath, which was included in the law God created to show His people how to live, was abolished through Jesus. But if God created the Sabbath for man, and not the other way around (Mark 2:27), the question needs to be raised: what about the Sabbath allows human beings to flourish? Because at this point in history it isn’t simply about a rule to follow but a rule of life, simply put, a trellis upon which we can build our life on and be nurtured by and flourish in return. If the trellis is Jesus, then the Sabbath – a day set aside (“holy”) to stop and rest, to delight and feast – is a day to remember. A day to remember the stories of old, like in Nehemiah, or when God parted the Red Sea and then held back the waters again for His people as Joshua led them across the Jordan. A day set aside to remember our Lord and Savior, the King Israel was longing for and the Savior we all need. The Sabbath today is not about rules, but true delight in remembering just how good our God is. It is a day I want to experience every week. I choose to celebrate the Sabbath out of joy.
Easter is the most joyous celebration of all, the Sabbath of all sabbaths. We need not overemphasize it or hinge our entire year on this event, but the hinge is on Jesus Himself. Jesus is “[our] light and [our] salvation” which St. Augustine teaches that Christ as light rids us of our ignorance and Christ’s salvation rids us of our weakness. I am a woman of ignorance and I’m so very weak. Jesus has gently revealed that both reside in me. But thankfully I can give all my praise to a God who sheds light on my own faults and wipes them away for me.
This year during Holy Week my plan is to listen, and to listen to only God’s voice. I’m quieting my days of all podcasts and blogs I could push play on and read through. I’m making space for God to speak to me and teach me things He wants me to learn so it can overflow into the lives of my children. And then, this Sunday the Ramsey’s will be feasting on homemade challah bread and sipping on sparkling drinks as we light candles and remember the stories of old. Happy Holy Week and I hope you have a lovely Easter!
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13
I’m in a season where I find myself being able to give more time and attention to things I know I was created to do and advancing in certain skills, like writing and sewing, cooking and baking. But I’m learning my limits. I may have more thoughts I’d like to share, but we’ll save that for another day. And honestly, this piece was much longer than I ever intended. I hope it was enjoyable to read because it was greatly enjoyable to write. Thank you for reading, my beloved reader friend.
