Live Joyfully, Love Ebulliently, Give Sacrificially

I tout this as “my mantra”—my song, my hymn. But what it really is is my heart’s desire—to live joyfully (in all circumstances), to love ebulliently (God and all people), and to give sacrificially (as a testimony to my joy and love).

The desires of my flesh; however, often wage war against the desires of my heart. The battle, I have discovered, is fierce.

Living joyfully came easy to me; I thought it was simple. I wasn’t fully certain why until I came face to face with the giver of joy—my Lord. But even then I didn’t grasp the full meaning to live joyfully in all circumstances until I had to make the choice to do so. It’s intentional, not circumstantial. It’s a vertical focus, not horizontal.

Loving ebulliently came easy as well. Again, it seemed simple enough. All my life I had been surrounded by a family who loved ebulliently. But again, I only knew what that meant when, at the feet of Jesus, I heard his voice whisper—love me by loving others. It’s a calling, not a feeling.

Giving sacrificially is a work in progress. The combat against self-preservation and self-indulgence are fiercest of all. Little by little we gain ground when we practice the discipline of giving—daily, minute-by-minute. It becomes a joy—a circle and a song made complete when sung to my Savior.

Memory's Writing

I remember falling in love with writing was when I was nine years old. Summer was upon us, but rather than the adventure that awaited me outside, I was drawn to the adventure indoors. Ravenously reading a book on Helen Keller, I digested that reading into thoughts and those thoughts into writing. I was nourished. I remember pages and pages of penciled understanding of what I had just read. I wanted to capture it a second time—but this time from my mind, not the author’s. How I wish now that I had those loose-leaf pages!

But alas I was to grow up in an atmosphere that didn’t allow holding on to scribbled pages—there was no room for such nonsense, transferring from air base to air base every few years. But here’s the beauty of memory, it requires no boxes, no moving vans, no unpacking. It travels with you year after year,city to city, country to country. It is joy recalled at a moment’s notice. And if you want to put joy to paper or, in this case, joy on display, you simply begin memory’s writing.