joy – Lisa J Radcliff ~ Finding Freedom from the Past

I received a crown this week. Not because I’m queen of my family (which I am). Not because I won a Mrs. Older America pageant (quilting would be my talent, so maybe I could win). And not because some dignitary of a never-before-heard-of little country arrived at my door, declaring that I am the long-lost royal heir and need to come with him to accept the crown and save my homeland from a unscrupulous neighboring kingdom that wants to turn it into an Amazon distribution center. Nope, none of the above.

The crown I received is on my tooth. After two harrowing experiences in the dental chair to prepare for this crown, this was the week the permanent crown would be fit over my tooth. There was very little pomp associated with this crowning. I expected more. It did coincide with my six-month cleaning, so the other teeth were freshly polished, looking their best. But there was a problem. It didn’t fit right.

Is this like a dress fitting? Do I need to come back two or three times while they take it in here and there to get the fit perfect? Nope. The dentist shaved it down (or whatever he was doing out of my sight). But it still didn’t fit. Then he shaved a little of the lower tooth, which was in my mouth and not anesthetized. It fit better. I left the office.

Now a few days later, it still doesn’t fit right. It feels like there is something in my mouth that doesn’t belong there. My husband says I’ll get used to it. I don’t know. It feels like I’m chewing eggshells, and I hate when even the tiniest bit of eggshell finds its way into my chewing. Maybe it will help me eat less, a silver lining.

Yesterday I read this verse, “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him” (James 1:12 ESV). I am a baby when it comes to dental work. But one good thing, it boosts my spiritual life. My prayer life and recalling memorized Bible verses occupy every minute I’m in the chair. To me, dental work is a trial. But the crown I received for making it through doesn’t even fit right.

Of course, the kind of trial James is referring to is probably not dental work. There have been and will be more serious trials to endure. And the result of persevering under trials has more benefits besides a crown. James also says that we should count it all joy when we meet trials because trials test our faith which produces perseverance.

The kind of trials that test our faith are very difficult, but the outcome of perseverance and a deeper faith is worth the struggle. And, of course, there’s that crown, which I’m sure will be spectacular…and fit perfectly.

My mom would turn 90 years old today, “if she had lived her whole life.” She coined that infamous phrase when talking about another relative who died young, and it continues to outlive us all.

I am remembering Mom today and all the funny moments we shared. The day she said, “Auntie Alma would still be taking that medication, if she had lived her whole life,” I had to pull the car to the side of the road, since I couldn’t see with my eyes squinted shut and tears of laughter running down my face. It wasn’t the first time, nor the last, we laughed together like that.

One of the things I am remembering is that she so easily laughed at herself. It took me quite a while to learn that valuable skill. But I’m right there with her now—mostly because I share her physical struggles, hearing loss, and questionable memory. She always said to me, “Wait until you’re my age.” Well, I’m there, and she was right. I’m in trouble.

I am remembering the times we giggled ourselves silly because she repeated what she thought I said, which wasn’t even close. Her good-natured yelling for help because she couldn’t open a jar with her atrophied hands. There were times she would start to ask me something and couldn’t get it out before collapsing in laughter. I’d squeak out, “Come on, Mom, stop it,” while grabbing my laugh-strained obliques. Most of the time, she had just forgotten what she was going to ask me, which tickled her. She did wonders for my core muscles. I’m going to try to remember her laughing as my own disabilities grow.

I want her joy, the kind of joy that laughs at the future (as in Proverbs 31:25 NASB). So, I have been praying for more joy. We pray for the all the other fruits of the Spirit: love, peace, patience, kindness, self-control, and so on. But I think sometimes we feel guilty asking for increased joy. Why? Joy is one of the evidences and outcomes of the Christian life. I think it should be one of the most-used words when describing a Christian.

And I’m not talking about peace or contentment, although they have their part in joy. Biblical joy, the way it is used most-often in the Bible, includes loud instruments, shouting, dancing, singing, and praising. There is almost always some sort of loud noise associated with joy. Nehemiah 12:43 says, “…for God made them rejoice with great joy; the women and children also rejoiced. And the joy of Jerusalem was heard far away.” 1 Kings tells us that their joy shook the earth. Do you picture the faces of people experiencing that kind of joy with dower countenances, stoically declaring their joy? No, there had to be smiles, laughing, and dare I say it, happy faces. That’s the kind of joy I want—not dependent on my circumstances but on how great a God I serve.

So, I’m going to let the lesson of my mom’s laughter fill my soul today. I have already been out sledding with my grandchildren today. After all, you never know when you’ve lived your whole life.