Joy in the morning

There was a time, several years ago, when all my big people were small, and all my little people weren't people yet, that I woke up angry almost every morning. It seemed I could never get enough sleep. And I woke up to needs everywhere. I was overwhelmed by the needs for diaper changes, drinks or food, supervision, and freshly ironed shirts.

I had the privilege to go to a meeting where there was prophetic ministry, and received a word from God that went something like this: in the movie Mary Poppins, there is a scene in which Jane and Michael and Burt are laughing uproarously floating near the ceiling at Uncle Albert's. Mary Poppins has the choice to either spoil the party or really make it grand by bringing the tea and table and all right up to the ceiling. She does the latter.

I was/am like that. I can ruin the party at my house or I can make it. I can enter into the joy my Father has for me, or I can be grumpy and angry with everyone.

One way I have found to enter His joy (my strength) is to sing a little song my brother's choir at Azusa Pacific University sang years and years ago. I have never heard it since, and I'm pretty sure I have some of the words wrong, but here it goes:

I speak His Name and a hundred million angels start singing
He calls to me and the freedom bells of my soul start to ringing
He gives me joy in the morning
And gentle peace in the evening
He gives me joy like I never knew
He's been my friend, He's always been true
He is my life, He helps me make it through.
He gives me joy.

He is my secret weapon. He gives me joy in the midst of chaos, rebellion, and a thorough coloring of the new (to us) couch.

He gives me joy.