Sorrowful but Rejoicing Always

sorrowful but rejoicing

A few months in he Fall of 2017 were some of the darkest I’ve experienced in years. l had expected the fall of 2017 to be full of joy and celebration as Museum of the Bible opened, a project I’ve been invested in for nearly eight years. But along with the great joy from this season, it was also full of pain. And it’s hit on many levels. In them all I learned what it meant to be sorrowful but rejoicing.

Those months brought personal medical issues (infertility), a family member’s death, broken trust in close relationships, personal attacks and many close friends experiencing their own tragedies, all the while as l am trying to keep up with my full-time job, a PhD work load on nights and weekends, and co-writing my first book with my mother. It’s a season that’s brought back panic attacks, heartache, doubt and insecurity. It’s also a season l feel God’s presence more than l have in a long time. It drove me to His Word, and to prayer.

Sorrowful but Rejoicing

In the midst of this season, one night l was supposed to go to an award ceremony in the evening to receive an award along with dozens of other recipients. l actually hadn’t told anyone about the award except my mom and husband. The day of the award ceremony turned out to be one of the more difficult days because of events that transpired. Those difficult events caused me to feel unable to get to a place where l could get out and go to this award banquet.

My husband, Michael, was out of town, but a few friends knew what was going on. As I got home from work, my sister (in-law) and a close friend from my community group showed up at my door with listening ears, my favorite snacks, flowers and a candle. (My sisters live on opposite coasts, and had told these friends what my favorite things were.) They spent hours with me, just listening to me and loving on me.