One of my dearest friends in the world is named Andy Lee. She's the one who encouraged me to do this blogging thing and taught me how, not only by example, but yea, even by taking me by my little ignorant and stubborn hand and guiding me step by step through the process. Andy has been through a soul-shaking (but not soul-shattering!) experience lately. She has just recently lost her big sister, her only sister, to cancer. My friend, Andy, left her family in North Carolina for a solid month and went to Oklahoma to work tirelessly as Christy's devoted nurse and cheerleader. She is a woman of great faith in her Father God, and so she, and all she could enlist to accompany her, boldly entered the throne room requesting from the King that the life of her sister be spared yet again from the cancer that she was delivered from a few years ago. For a while it looked like those prayers would be answered according to our wishes, but on July 13, Christy's fight with cancer ended forever. She was delivered from her disease into her Father's safe keeping, never to do battle again with cancer or any other frailty of the flesh. I invite you-- no, I implore you-- to go her blog and follow her heart's journey for the past month [hernamewasmary.blogspot.com].
Andy's blog for today is especially compelling; in fact, I was so shot in the head with it that I was tempted just to cut and paste it into this space and call it mine! Instead, let me just step up beside this soul mate of mine, say "Amen, Sister," and add another testimony of my own.
It's all about the best kind of happiness being something different from what most people might normally think of as happiness. She has decided that happiness to her is peacefulness. Although the word "peace" doesn't conjure up mental images of of the high thrills and deep ecstasies of skydiving or whitewater rafting, isn't it really the truth? Isn't the fleeting nature of such "happy" experiences as these always haunting our consciousness? And doesn't the very widespread accessibility of such "happy" experiences throw them into the ironic category of "cheap thrills?" (Ironic because they are available to anyone who has the guts and the money!)
True peace, however, is not cheap at all. At least it hasn't been for me. I have been given some opportunities recently to be put in the hot seat and discover the mettle of my inner peace, and let me tell you, no one has been more surprised than I to watch a holy calmness fall down and cover and smother what used to be inner turmoil and outer agitation. It's been like an out-of-body experience to stand aside and look upon a self I hardly recognize. Then it hits me that this is what God has been promising all along, ever since I drew near to Him to be Lord over Jan. You see, He has had to take me down some pretty rough roads, to teach me to turn lose of my own machinations and resources and take Him at His Word. There has been nothing easy or cheap about learning how to rest increasingly in the peace of God "that passes all understanding." I have spent most of my Christian life wondering if I would ever make it around the first bend of this race. This is why I feel like an alien onlooker lately when I find myself making some progress.
Even though in your whole lifetime you might not personally know even a handful of high-thrill seekers who spend all their time getting on and off bucking broncs or swimming with sharks, I'll bet you know even fewer (outside of those seriously stoned on drugs or who have had a lobotomy) who abide in overwhelming, awe-inspiring peace. This peace is as rare as hen's teeth-- so rare that when we find ourselves possessed of it when we know a year ago we would not have been, oh yes, indeed, it is a happy, happy day! We know that now we're really getting somewhere, not just coming to the end of the ride (or the free fall or back up to the boat where sharks can't breathe.) Peace doesn't just last for a few thrilling minutes. With practice-- soaking in God's presence-- it gets better and stronger and more reliable. It doesn't quit being available when our hair turns blue or our teeth fall out or we can't see or hear anymore, either, like most of those other "happy" things. That's good news for me and for everyone else like me who keeps having birthdays.
(P.S. This does not mean that I have given up my desire to jump a freight train.)
