The Face of Joy

She had lived through the Holocaust.

Anita Dittman came to speak at my church the other night. She had survived one of the darkest experiences in human history. She had had her family stripped from her when she was still only a girl, really, living for months on her own, praying that her mother would survive the concentration camp. Then forced to work digging trenches for the Nazis while starving, dying from an infection that she had to hide lest she be shot on the spot. When she was finally "safe" in a hospital, the Nazi nurse tried to kill her. She was spared brutal rape by the incoming Russian soldiers only because of the wounds they saw when they stripped her naked. She had seen more indescribable evil and horror than most of us will ever even come close to...

And yet, the joy in her face shone brighter than all the pain.

And I left church Sunday night mesmerized. By her story, yes; by the incredible opportunity I'd just had to meet an 87 year old Jewish survivor of the Holocaust; but mostly by the joy in her face.

I came home, sat down on my side of the bed-- my heart communicating with God even while my mind raced-- and concluded: I want to be that faithful.

I want to stand in the face of this personal darkness and respond with faith. I want to pray and know that He hears and I can trust Him no matter the outcome. I want to face my personal Nazis and watch as God uses them to help me escape (she literally was given a train ride to freedom by some German soldiers after she escaped with 4 other girls from their work camp as the Russians closed in...) to freedom. I want to someday stand before a cloud of witnesses and shine joy from my face because of the grace of my God. I want to stand that firm in the love of Christ, that the deepest darkness can't muffle my praises because I KNOW that this tiny blip of time on earth where satan has reign for a time is just that-- the blink of an eye. And my King is bigger. Bigger than all this pain. Bigger than all this evil. Bigger than all this sin. Bigger than all this betrayal. Bigger than all this heartache...

I just forget so easily how little light it takes to dispel the darkness. The most miniscule flicker breaks the heaviest dark. How can I forget?

Lord, please, in the midst of it all, rise up in me faith like I have never known, and joy that shines out of my eyes midst the tears of gratitude that You see me, You love me, You never leave me-- not even for a moment-- in this inhospitable world. May I not only see your hand in this, but may I grab hold of it so firmly that my faith only increases in the face of evil. And one day, may I give Joy a face for another...

"Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord."
-- Psalm 31:24

Intrepid Explorers and Awakenings

Being the most non-typical Minnesota winter I have ever seen, it was nearly 50 degrees outside today. I found myself out in it pulling my two favourite little intrepid explorers all over kingdom come in a little red wagon. We wheeled around Grandma and Grandpa's yard, petting horse noses, moo-ing at cows in the pastures, and having conversations at a 2-year-old level about all that we were excitedly observing (Only as the daughter of a funeral director/cattle rancher can you find yourself trekking through a horse arena past farm machinery on your left and burial vaults on your right...)

My little explorers chattered together as they were happily pulled along down the driveway of my childhood home. The unlikely January weather made it feel like a day in early spring, not the dead of winter, and the earth smelled like a hundred memories of growing up here, making "forts" in the woods, playing house where I pretended to be a settler like Laura Ingalls Wilder, or a Native American princess like Pocahontas, or a lost orphan from England (I grew up constantly putting on an English accent when I played pretend-- go figure!).  We turned that old familiar bend in my parents' long driveway and the memory of the feeling of His presence on so many night prayer walks down this driveway throughout high school and summers home from college just struck me like deja vu. The memory of that hunger for Him, that desperate knowledge that nothing else would satisfy but Him, speaking to my heart out under the bright stars hung over my childhood home, singing praise songs to Him as I walked down that dark driveway...

The day gave me a Spring-time feeling; that time when all that has been lying dormant is beginning to awaken, to come back to life.

So many friends in my life have been confessing to me a similar experience of so many elements of faith in our walks with Him feeling like they've been lying dormant. And we have been asking one another to pray-- pray that they will start to feel alive to us again. That moment today, pulling my little men in that red wagon around that bend in the driveway, was like a little experience of awakening.


I know that walking with God is just that-- walking; it is an active journey. It is a series of seasons of life. It ebbs and flows. The weather changes with the seasons and He changes me with them, forever inviting me to trust Him, whether in the summery seasons of faith or the wintery ones. To keep walking that road, exploring its contours whether blanketed by snow, covered by leaves, smelling of fresh spring earth, or humid from the heat of the sun as we walk...  And wherever I plant a foot, His have already trod that ground.


I am struck by His mercy. For the way he deigns to walk so close, to lead if we ask, to quiet if we don't genuinely want to hear Him, and to speak up if we do. I just want to live a life which is set up to amplify the sound of His voice, and to have a heart which is poised to receive what He says, and to have feet ready to move on it whatever the earthly risk may seem.

Lord, I know that everything comes from you and there is nothing I can muster up on my own-- Oh, that you would give me a ready faith. And always always make me an intrepid explorer of Who You are, Lord Jesus, in whatever season (And draw my little nephews to seek Your heart above all else as they grow into men, too!)
Amen.

Another Journey

Oooh, it's been a long wait...

But as the main rush of wedding season peters out, I'm once again saying goodbye to this pretty Nordic city and heading out to spend much needed time with precious friends and family in "my two home countries"!

I will keep up with the blog as much as I can, but Saturday commences about 5 weeks of travel around the UK seeing loved ones and soaking up His presence in those day-to-days with the friends He's given to place hands on and form my life, and the man He's placed there to hold it :) So far the journey is taking me to London, Andover, Salisbury, the Norfolk coast, The Cotswolds, Bristol, Bradford-on-Avon, a village in Devon, Gloucester, and the Isle of Sheppey! Oh, there is no where like England to me!!

And after those weeks, it's home again, just in time for Christmas!! This visiting my family twice in one year business feels quite a treat. Who knows what He has in store!





One thing is sure, He has each of us on a journey, whether they involve planes, trains, and automobiles, passports and border controls, or paperwork at the office and commutes, grocery-shopping, baby-soothing, and storybook reading, or guzzling coffee at 3am to finish that essay due in at 8. He astounds me with His attention to my heart, to my life, and His deliberately always working away at this lump of clay, moving me toward wholeness and holiness through every circumstance of life. He is teaching me a great deal about hope these days.

And it's this verse which holds me the most at the moment:

"May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it." -- 1 Thess. 5:23-24

So, here's to the One who is faithful, and the journey He has each of us on
Your fellow sojourner,
Leah