“Thank you for bringing my family to me.
Thank you for joy.
And I love my dog Izzie.”
This was part of my youngest daughter’s prayer one night last week. It had been a joyless few days and hearing it was a bit like having the air knocked out of me. It hurt like the dickens for a second and then I could take a prayerful breath, deeper than I had in a while.
|My Baby Girl finding joy in the rain today.|
This is always a tricky time of year for me and I hadn’t been taking very good care of myself (in a bunch of ways, as indicated by the use of the word “dickens”). The effects of my dry spirit and tired body were wreaking havoc on my frayed emotions.
(For example I went running that morning and as I opened up my running app it said something along the lines of “welcome – your last run was 26 days ago”. When I launched into defense mode including a lecture TO MY IPHONE about how hot it’s been and an (exaggerated) list of the number of times I ran on the treadmill that she knows nothing about….I realized I just needed to get moving before my emotions got the best of me and I ended up finishing off the box of Reese’s pieces I had started the night before.)
As I ran my daughter’s prayer encouraged me. And when I say it encouraged me what I mean is that it gave me courage, inspired courage in me. For a lot of reasons that are mostly selfish I had forgotten that joy is a gift to be thankful for, but it is also a choice.
And sometimes a choice that takes a lot of courage.
“…we who have fled [to Him] for refuge....have mighty indwelling strength and strong encouragement to grasp and hold fast the hope appointed for us and set before [us].” Hebrews 6:18 AMP
So be encouraged, encourage another.