I haven’t posted anything on my Here’s the Joy devotional blog for over six months. This is bad for a blogger. But, well, lots has been going on, including writing.
In the spring I wrote and presented a three-hour presentation on domestic abuse for a local church here in Greenville, SC, based largely on Unholy Charade, as well as my own personal interaction with domestic abuse survivors. (I’m happy to say it was well received.)
In the spring we posted on BJUGrace the stories of several abuse survivors who decided to name their common perpetrator. This included many hours of research and interviews, as well as a visit to an attorney.
In the spring I wrote a devotional book based on stories in the missionary books and biographies I’ve written, with another one in process.
In the first six months of 2016 I’ve written in my journal as many words as were in the first book I wrote. (That’s about 30,000, in case you’re wondering.)
I’ve written partial studies that I sure do hope I can finish and publish someday.
I’ve written a lot of correspondence!
But besides writing, I’ve been meeting with people and praying with them and learning how to better help them. I’ve been being discipled by several excellent individuals who have graciously offered to teach me.
And I’m happy to say, now comes the time to start blogging again.
One of the things the Lord did in January early in this year was remind me very forcefully of a memory of when I was eleven years old and my hands and feet were so diseased (which I tell more about here) that one night I cried out loudly in my sleep with the pain, over and over. (The memory is of my parents waking me up to tell me I was yelling, and then ripping off those awful plastic bags the doctor had told them to put on my feet.)
The Lord connected that memory with a reminder that His own hands and feet were wounded for my salvation, and then that He asked me—as He asks all Christians—to be His hands and feet to serve Him by serving others. (I clearly remembered nine years ago when I first heard that expression, “being the hands and feet of Christ.”) Then He showed me how my own hands and feet, the work of my flesh, are so diseased that they’re incapable of accomplishing the love of God for others. But through His own nail-scarred hands and feet, He can use me to reach others.
And I worshiped Him.
The impression He made on me in that experience was so powerful I can’t even properly express it here, and I’m telling only the barest bit of it anyway. But now that I’m blogging again, I want to not only get back to writing about the things the Lord is showing me in His written Word, but also what He’s showing me through the connections He makes in my thinking patterns as He continues to renew my mind.
It’s an incredibly exciting and joyful journey, and I’m very thankful to be on it with Him.