joy to the world!

Joy.  Such a small word with such a huge, earth-shattering impact.  Dictionary.com defines joy as "the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation; a source or cause of keen pleasure or delight; something or someone greatly valued or appreciated; the expression or display of glad feeling; festive gaiety; a state of happiness or felicity."  I disagree.  Joy is not always equated with happiness, delight, gaiety.  In fact, I'm not sure how to define true joy.  Life is hard, and often we have to choose joy.  I don't mean putting on a happy face during a time of struggle.  I mean a deep sense of joy rooted in our hearts because of the incredible gift of salvation.  Deep enough that no matter what our circumstance, nothing can move it.  It might be hard to see, hard to feel, hard to remember, but it's there.  There's a whole story in Scripture that speaks to where our joy comes from, why we can choose joy in every moment, and how we are to live out this indescribable joy.

First and foremost, we have joy because Jesus came.  God so loved His creation that he sent His perfect Son for our salvation.  His angels alerted us to the fact that His birth was a source of “great joy…for all the people” (Luke 2:10).  We sing about it every year: “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!”  This event alone is enough to bring deep joy. 

But we also know He suffered on our behalf…for joy… “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).  We are saved because of His suffering and death.  How can you not rejoice?

And that’s not even all.  Jesus is coming AGAIN!  I love this vision from Isaiah 52:8 –

“The voice of your watchmen—they lift up their voice;
    together they sing for joy;
for eye to eye they see
    the return of the Lord to Zion.”

The best part?  Eternal victory is His.  He reigns.  Forever!  Seriously, are there adequate words for this?  Check out the first few verses of Psalm 50.  I mean, just read it.  Meditate on it.  Wow. 

The Mighty One, God the Lord,
    speaks and summons the earth
    from the rising of the sun to its setting.
Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty,
    God shines forth.
Our God comes; he does not keep silence;
    before him is a devouring fire,
    around him a mighty tempest.

HE summons the earth.  HE shines forth.  HE comes.  HE is not silent. 

Now read these words from Isaiah 9:

“The people who walked in darkness
    have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
    on them has light shone.
You have multiplied the nation;
    you have increased its joy;
For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
    and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace
    there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
    to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
    from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.”

That’s for us.  You and me.  I think “a land of deep darkness” is an apt description, right?  Light, peace, justice, righteousness.  Forevermore.  Certainly a cause for joy. 

So now what?  We clearly see why we can and should have joy.  But what does that mean for today, for right now?  The season of Advent is one of waiting, of preparing our hearts, of preparing the way for the Lord’s second coming.  And there is joy because He is with us, Emmanuel, even in the waiting.  He is God, He reigns even now.  We are His, and His love is steadfast.  And we should praise Him with joyful spirits!

Our soul waits for the Lord;
    he is our help and our shield.
For our heart is glad in him,
    because we trust in his holy name.
Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us,
    even as we hope in you. (Psalm 33:20-22)

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth!
Serve the Lord with gladness!
    Come into his presence with singing!
Know that the Lord, he is God!
    It is he who made us, and we are his;
    we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
    and his courts with praise!
    Give thanks to him; bless his name!
For the Lord is good;
    his steadfast love endures forever,
    and his faithfulness to all generations.  (Psalm 100)

Then we are reminded in 1 Peter 1 of the “living hope…an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you…ready to be revealed in the last time…Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”  Believe in Him.  Rejoice.  Wait expectantly, joyfully, for the outcome of your faith. 

And finally, a practical way to live out an expression of joy from the words of John 15 – “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love…that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”  Love one another.  This is the most complete expression of the joy we have been given.  Abide in His love and love one another.  Start with your families.  Watch the joy grown in your children, your loved ones, your neighbors.  Be wealthy in generosity because of the abundance of joy you have in our Savior (2 Corinthians 8).  Wait for Him with hope, with joy, with love, with peace in your hearts.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope” (Romans 15:13).

I'm grateful.

For a heavenly Father who created me in His image and showers me with new mercies every morning.  For his faithfulness that reaches to the heavens, grace that abounds despite our weaknesses, and a powerful love that never lets go.  For the hope we share with all the saints that the ultimate victory is His, that His kingdom reigns even now, and that we have the privilege of participating in His incredible story of redemption.

For a husband who loves me for who I am, not because of what I do, or what I say, or how I look, or what I make for dinner.  For his devotion to the Lord, to his family, and to his work.  For his endless encouragement and support for me, for our children, and for everyone he meets.  For his remarkable gifts that so perfectly complement mine. 

For the blessings of four beautiful children and the countless lessons I learn from each of them each day.  For the pleasure of watching them grow and learn and the honor of being an intimate part of their lives.  For their unique personalities and special gifts that make our family what it is.  For their unconditional love for their fallen parents and knowing when a hug or an “I love you Mom” note will make my world seem right again.

For our families and their generosity, for always being there, for making sure our kids know they’re loved.  For our church family, for being part of a community where we can be vulnerable and receive healing.  For our friends, old and new, near and far.   

For physical well-being, a warm home in a neighborhood we love, and the resources to keep our family fed and clothed.  For my job that has provided me with unbelievable flexibility, an amazing team of colleagues, and daily opportunities to love others.  For the guiding hand of our Father, His provision of the perfect job for Luke, and plans we cannot yet see but will continue to trust.

For beauty, creativity, laughter, peace, wisdom, forgiveness, and seasons of change.  For feeding my soul with the grace-filled rhythms of daily life and rest.

I’m grateful.

finding place

The other night I watched a TedTalk about “The Power of Introverts.”  The speaker talked about what it means to be an introvert in a society that places higher value on the gifts of extroversion.  This was the day after I learned my personality type is ISTJ – introverted, organized, practical, detail-oriented, serious.  Basically a nerd.  And at first I was disappointed, maybe even a little embarrassed.  My husband is the total opposite – ENFP.  Extroverted, a visionary, gregarious, charismatic, compassionate.  I want those personality traits.  I mean, doesn’t everyone want to be outgoing?  The socialite, the life of the party, the everyone-wants-to-be-your-friend cool kid?  That’s certainly how I felt growing up, particularly in those oh so difficult years of junior high formation and beyond.

Then in my first year of college, I was part of a group of a handful of friends on my dorm floor.  I knew from the beginning that I didn’t really fit in, but they were fun girls, so we hung out between classes and in the evenings.  I didn’t really know who I was, and that year was a struggle for me emotionally and spiritually.  My husband and I became engaged over Christmas break, but he lived six hours away, and our long distance relationship was tough.  We spent hours on the phone, making plans and trying to decide what the following year would look like for us.  It caused tension with my roommate and friends; they didn’t understand what I was going through, and I was in my own world for much of the spring semester.  At some point they sat me down for a planned “intervention” type discussion.  I don’t remember details, but I vaguely remember the premise being that I had a problem, and they wanted to help “fix” me.  I walked away from that experience truly believing that there was something seriously wrong with me.  I preferred to be alone, and often when I was with a group, I felt awkwardly out of place and uncomfortable.  I have carried those feelings of social inadequacy deep within me for many years, never really understanding why or how I got to that point. 

I still feel that way in many social settings.  I’ve coped by keeping a smile on my face and trudging my way through small talk if someone starts a conversation with me.  Parties and social events actually create anxiety for me.  I hide behind my extrovert husband and rely on him to lead the way.  And I’ve suffered through this for so long without really knowing why.  I guess if you had asked me, I would have identified myself as an introvert.  But I can’t adequately express the relief I have experienced since learning my personality type and gaining a deeper understanding of who I am.  Not just who I am – who God has created me to be.  He purposely wired me this way, with my own personality and set of skills and abilities.  And how necessary they are – the world needs introverts!  Honestly, if you know my husband you know he needs my practical mind to reign him in sometimes! 

Over the past few years I have begun to grasp the knowledge that my identity is wrapped up in being a daughter of our heavenly Father, uniquely crafted in His image to fill a place in this world that only I can fill.  I’m realizing that for most of my life I have let others to write my story for me.  What joy, what freedom I find when I step back and allow God to write my story and show me how beautifully and wonderfully He made me to be.  I’m growing to be pleased and grateful for who I am, and not so caught up with the idea that there is something wrong with me.  I’m learning to embrace my own giftedness and that of others around me.  And I’m rejoicing in the gentle, gracious Spirit of God that faithfully knits us together to fulfill His kingdom purpose. 

can't say it enough

The last couple of months have been tough for our family. New medical concerns, financial burdens, time constraints, sleep deprivation, a long road trip complete with a stomach bug, life-changing decisions. The list of stressors has become pretty long. As I was wallowing in self-pity and complaining to God about how hard I’ve got it right now, my thoughts went to my mother and how often she must have felt this way when we were young kids. I thought to myself that she likely handled the struggles of motherhood with more grace than I usually do. And I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I was also overwhelmed with the realization that she probably has no idea how grateful I am. So now is the time to express my deep appreciation for my mother. Here goes…


THANK YOU.

These two words seem so small compared to the vastness of what I’m thanking you for.

So I feel the need to say it again…and again…and again.

THANK YOU.

For carrying me in your own body. For the discomfort you endured in order to give me life.

For the innumerable sleepless nights you must have suffered through.

For the long tiring days filled with providing for each of my needs, with three other young children to care for at the same time.

For the countless meals you prepared, which I never thanked you for. And for continuing to do so even when I complained about the food in front of me. And for all the times your food was cold before you got to eat because I spilled my juice, or I needed more ketchup, or I dropped my fork.

For all of the showers you desperately wanted to take but didn’t have time to.

For the clean comfortable house we lived in, for the endless piles of laundry you had to keep up with, for managing all of this on your own when Dad had to travel for work.

For patiently speaking words of comfort when I had a bad dream in the middle of the night when you finally fell asleep.

For 6000+ bedtimes, and all that bedtime entails.

For making the dollars stretch to provide for our family.

For taking care of me when I was sick, even when you were sick too.

For road trips. Long road trips. With four kids. Enough said.

For all the band-aids, kisses, and ice packs.

For making me play outside and letting me get dirty. For teaching me how to appreciate and enjoy God’s creation.

For reading to me often and opening my world through the love of books.

For instilling in me a lifelong passion for learning.

For teaching me to love others, to appreciate differences, to live generously.

For the sacrifices you made to help us through seminary.

For the love and grace you show your grandchildren. For being the best Memaw in the world.

For making yourself available to care for our children over and over and over.

For always being there.

And most importantly, for raising me in a home full of faith, and for leading me to know and love Jesus Christ.

For all of these things and so much more, I am eternally grateful. I would not be whom I am today without your love and your support. Thank you.

peace

Over the past few weeks I’ve been thinking a lot about peace. What it means, what it feels like. I’ve also done some reading about it and was intrigued by a chapter Beth Moore wrote about the link between the authority of Christ and the peace we experience when we submit to Him in obedience. I looked up some Scriptures about the peace of Christ, and I was all prepared to write a blogpost about it. In fact, I sat down to write it on a Saturday evening, but didn’t get very far. The thoughts just didn’t seem to be flowing, so I decided to put it away and come back to it later.

Then the unthinkable happened. Early the next morning, our oldest daughter suffered a seizure. She has always had a mild seizure disorder as a result of a stroke in utero, but this was a big one, bigger and scarier than anything she has ever had before. It was honestly the most terrifying five minutes of my life. Despite my experience as a nurse, I found myself panicking and having to force my mind to tell me what steps needed to be taken to ensure her safety. She was taken by ambulance to the ER where she was monitored for a couple of hours, then sent home with increased medication. We saw her neurologist the next day, and he answered all of our questions and eased many of our fears by helping us develop a plan for what to do if this should happen again. We have received and continue to receive emails, text messages, and phone calls from friends and family both near and far, with words of encouragement and support and prayers for peace and comfort.

PEACE. That word has come to mean so much more than it already did. I have been praying for peace for months, even years. And just recently, after reading the Beth Moore chapter about Christ’s authority, I began to understand what it means to release our fears, anxieties, our plans, doubts, our accomplishments, failures, and everything to His authority. We always talk about submitting to Christ, casting our cares on Him, laying our burdens at His feet. And even as I have been reading, thinking, and praying about this, although it began to seem a little clearer, I still wondered what it really looks like to do this. Am I doing it right? Am I doing it enough? I like to be in control of what happens in my life and the life of my family. I feel like I’m pretty good at giving the “big things” to God – our next step, our finances, our future. But the day to day stuff is so much harder.

When our daughter was having her seizure, I was on the phone with the 911 dispatcher and Luke was at our daughter’s side. I looked over and he was praying fervently as I was frantically trying to focus on what the dispatcher was saying and remember what I was supposed to do in this situation. When we got to the ER, I reflected on watching Luke pray and was struck by the thought that it didn’t even occur to me to pray. My instinct was to panic and call for help. Then I started thinking that I should be praying even then, in the ER as I hovered over her asking her repeatedly how she was feeling. But I had no words. I was thankful to receive a message from a dear friend reminding me that there is nowhere we can go where the Spirit isn’t. I found comfort in this, but I failed to find peace. Throughout the rest of that day and the next, I was a bundle of anxiety. I prayed for peace but never felt at peace. I was frustrated that despite all the reading, thinking, and praying I had recently done about peace, in the midst of a crisis, I found it lacking. Finally, after meeting with the doctor and formulating an emergency plan (which includes a medication we can give if another seizure occurs), I felt less anxious about the situation and wondered if I was “finding” peace.

The truth is, I didn’t “find” peace from having a plan. I found a tiny bit of control within my grasp. And I held to that tightly for those next several days. I debriefed and vented to Luke over and over, and he gently reminded me that these beautiful children the Lord has given to us are His. He is their Father, their Creator. He was with us in our daughter’s bedroom that awful morning, with His hand on her body. And He is with her right now as she sleeps, He’s with her when she goes to school. He loves her, even more than we do. We have to place her in His hands, to submit her life to Him and His authority and trust that He can and will care for her better than we can. And in doing this, we will find peace, the peace of Christ that passes understanding, peace that will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Phil. 4:7).

This is true for every area of our lives – every decision, every relationship, every situation. This is the link between obedience and peace – submit to His authority, and you will find peace, even in the most difficult struggles. He is in control, and why wouldn’t we want Him to be? Not only is He all-powerful and all-knowing, but He loves us. He cares about the big stuff and the day-to-day stuff. Releasing my tight grasp on control, especially when it comes to my kids, is frightening. But I’m learning, often the hard way, that I can and should trust Him and allow myself to rest in the peace that can only come from the Prince of Peace.

isn't it incredible?

Isn’t it incredible to see the hand of God in our lives? His power, his provision, his protection, his guidance, his lovingkindness, HE is evident everywhere, every day. And I’m so grateful for constant reminders of his presence with us, Emmanuel. Because I don’t know about you, but I do know myself, and I’m fairly certain that without these reminders, I would be up there with Thomas in the ranks of doubters. We’ve all had our share of struggles, questions, burdens, crises, and I bet most everyone has a story of a time they were keenly aware of experiencing God’s grace in the midst of a difficult situation.


A couple years ago when Luke had finished seminary and was applying to every job he could find, I was still working full time and homeschooling our daughter with two younger kids at home too. We didn’t know what was next for our family, particularly whether we would be staying in the area or moving away. The house we were renting left a lot to be desired, and we were anxious to own a home again, to settle down somewhere, to get on with our life. I remember asking for prayer one Sunday morning at church, telling the prayer minister that I was just tired of not knowing. It was exhausting to be wondering, clueless about where God was leading us.

Then one morning I was doing a Bible lesson with the kids about Abram. It was such a familiar story from Genesis, and we were reading the part when God tells Abram to pack up and start walking. God didn’t tell him where he was headed, just to go “to the land I will show you” (Gen. 12:1). And he did. Just like that, he packed up his family and left the comfort of his home, because he believed God’s promises. And sure enough, when they got to Canaan, God appeared and told Abram he could stop walking, that this was his new home. As you read further you find that Abram was blessed beyond measure, just as God said he would be.

When I was reading this to the kids, I could feel the little lightbulb over my head flicker on. I can still feel the flood of relief washing my anxiety away in that moment, knowing that the God who created the universe has a specific plan for the Campbell family, a plan far greater than anything we could imagine. He has already written our story, and he’s showing us one page at a time. Now don’t get me wrong, I still worry and have moments of nagging doubt and fear. I want to skip to the next chapter and know what’s around the bend for us. But I frequently find myself reflecting on that moment, sitting on the living room floor reading about Abram to my squirmy kids, knowing I’m getting way more out of this lesson than they are. And I bask in God’s goodness, his faithfulness as he leads us on this amazing journey. I take comfort in knowing that I don’t have to figure it all out, that I’m not really in charge of all the details (although I’ll admit that isn’t so easy for a control freak).

We are so grateful for where he has brought us already. And even as we find ourselves in yet another season of questions, of waiting for the page to be turned, we know there is something exciting in our future. Pieces are coming together, maybe not as quickly as we would like, but we know the foundation is being laid for something beyond our dreams. So we wait in faith for God to appear and announce to us that this is what he has been preparing us for. This is where he has been leading us. We wait in earnest for the day when we can look back and say, isn’t it incredible?