Sunday Mornings

Today is a normal day. It's Sunday, a week before Christmas, cold, and the sun is coming up slowly over our frost-blanketed neighborhood. There is nothing uncommon or exciting, yet I can't help but feel a unique anticipation.

My children, both boys, are five and seven years old. The seven year old is still sleeping at this hour while the five year old is awake watching television. Although he is still sleeping I know the seven year old is excited for Christmas. The five year old? He's already asked me if tomorrow is Christmas several times this morning. There is such a joyful anticipation in them.

Their anticipation and excitement gives me an extra sense of excitement. There is also a bit of additional excitement, too. I was awake shortly after 4 this morning not hardly able to wait for time for church. That may seem odd and boring, but I have really been recharged and renewed to the idea of worshiping God. It isn't about the songs, it's not about the preaching, it's not the beauty of the place; it is the raw joy of enjoying the Living God by His Spirit and through His resurrected Son.

A year ago I can honestly say I didn't feel this way. There have been other times I didn't feel this way and probably times I won't. A year ago I was still dread for life. I was fighting my way into church on Sundays and fighting the strife in my head to the point there was little joy to be found.

The honest truth is there is hope. I wouldn't share how I feel to beat you over the head with the Bible, shout JESUS! at you, or anything else. Each should work out their own salvation, but I'm here to chat if you would like to understand more of mine. All I say is, if you have given up hope, know that joy can exist- get help.

Help takes time. Help takes commitment. Sometimes on the road to recovery it feels like everything is getting worse. Believe me, I had plenty of those days on the way to here. I can also tell you it has taken every day of the past year to get this far. Don't give up, joy can be found.