Joy Comes in the Mourning?

                                               
       

   Weeping may stay for the night,  but joy comes in the morning.

    

   Hear, Lord, and be merciful to me; Lord, be my help... You turned my wailing 

   into dancing.  (Psalm 30)

                                           
                             

                                       

          Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.   (James 1:2,3)

This  morning at the Women's Retreat at our church with speaker Jen Wilkins, the words   

morning and mourning jumped off the screen to me as we gathered in worship.  The worship was pure joy for me at least, and for many other women from what I could tell by the looks on their upturned faces, voices lifted in harmony, and hands raised in emotion to heaven.   It was a time of worship with nothing else to do for the moment but to focus on His beauty and mercy and goodness.  Surely this is going to be some of what heaven is like; time to worship freely with nothing but joy bursting like a sunrise inside of you with sounds you could listen to forever.   

     But of course, focused worship may only be for the moment here on earth.  And, as I return home, to clothes that need to be washed, furniture that needs to be dusted, supper that needs to be cooked, and the dog that needs letting out, I choose to spend just a few more moments in worship through the power of the pen.  I choose to let the rest go for now - well, I did let the dog out - and crystallize this moment in time where I have a blissfully quiet house and can reflect on the Word and worship that was so artfully presented this morning.

     As I reflect on those two words and verses I wonder, seriously, does joy come in the morning...after mourning?  Can we really consider it pure joy when we face trials of many kinds, knowing that the testing of it will develop perseverance?  Is that the only way to grow?  Is that the answer to the age-old question of "Why does God allow suffering?" ... so that we develop perseverance?  Isn't there any other way to grow?

    Maybe not...  Maybe it is through mourning that we mature.  It could be mourning for  words spoken in anger, for the loss of a loved one,  for a job that is less than perfect, for the house that never seems to stay straightened, for the pain in the midst of the marriage that you thought would complete you, for the mistakes of the past, for the unfulfillment of a dream.  Mourning can come in many packages.  Mourning comes with life, just as the sun rises every morning.  There will be a time to mourn for all of us.  Major mourning, and minor mourning.  But mourning never-the-less.  

    We learned this morning of such mourning as we looked at the stories of three women in the bible:  Rahab, who was considered a no-account for her prostitution that was more than likely not of her choosing; Leah, who never felt like enough next to her beautiful sister Rachel and was thrown into a loveless marriage; and Sarah, who spent her life childless until she was "as good as dead".   All three were mentioned in the Hebrews 11 Christian "Hall of Fame".  In fact,  every person listed in Hebrews 11 endured a time of mourning.  All of them "did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance...Instead they were longing for a better country - a heavenly one."  (Hebrews 11:13, 16) 

     Right from the start of His revealed Word, God is presented to us as a Resurrection God,  one who created the morning and brought the joy from the mourning of  Sarah, and Abraham, and Leah, and Rahab, whether in heaven or earth.  Theirs were all resurrection stories.  

     Can that not bring a joy to us even within our present mourning - the deep, abiding belief that one day all will be right?   It may be a lifetime of waiting - as for Sarah and Abraham, or 40 years as for the Israelites, or for the endless years of waiting to be rescued by Rahab, or for the declaration of  being cancer-free after rounds of debilitating chemo, or for the tension release of finally being given the strength of granting forgiveness for a real offense well up in you after the bitter taste of unforgiveness that continued  too long without release.  Or sometimes it is never alright on earth; only in heaven will we receive healing. 

   But can that joy somehow be here on earth even when deeply buried by mourning that seems to continue forever?  

     It  took me many years to understand that joy in the midst of unwelcome circumstances.  I am still growing in faith to be able to recognize it is there when I'm thrown into the pit of mourning on this earth.   But just as the sun rises each morning, I believe there is always the joy of being able to possess the peace that passes understanding  whether in heaven or on earth.  And I will keep seeking it - through the Son who brings the joy of the morning to each of us who seek Him with all our might.  

Joy Comes in the Mourning?

Consider it joy?  Lord, even this?

I wonder if I'll ever again feel bliss. 

I'm cold and numb, I can't find my way.

Will I even survive another day?

Joy comes in the morning? 

Will I ever see the dawn?

Darkness seems to be in all 

  the cards I've drawn.

I can't see past the pit

And though I'm sure of it,

My faith seems just in my head.

All I can feel is dread.  

Yet, now that I grow still

I begin to feel a trill 

Of a dim song deep within

That I've heard through thick and thin.  

I remember this faint melody 

Buried way down deep inside of me.
Then despite this pain,
I begin to gain

A perspective on which to lean.
And  I begin to slowly glean
That You are there, You are there!
You've promised that you care.
You have always been where

My greatest needs rise.
How can I but surmise
That You will use this for my good?
No matter how I could

Imagine the outcome... 
What I want or something from
The pit of hell to torment me.
What is the worst that could be?
Will I ever be free

Of the pain that is real?
It's all I can feel.
Yet I know, yes I know
That though the hurt is slow
To recede
You are all that I need. 

And this mourning deep inside
Will cause me to abide
Until that day on earth or above
That I once again feel the joy of your love.

For now in the night
I wait in my plight
Knowing the morning always comes
With the joy that is from
You who holds the light
And will deliver us from the night.
Joy comes through the mourning.
                       -Sherrill Schlimpert