This is the Day

This post is by Joanne Wu.

Every night, I go to bed with the goal to start the day before my kids wake up.  But almost every morning, I am woken up by my two youngest kids who sleep in the same room with me.  This past week, however, I have wrestled to open my eyes and MOVE my body off the bed.  I’ve been telling myself to move, even though I don’t feel like it.  

I don’t know about you, but I am now at a stage where I just want to wake up and find things are back to “normal” again.  I’m tired. I’m done. I don’t want to bring 5 extra kid masks with me whenever I go out.  I don’t want to feel this impending doom on my shoulders.  I don’t want to think of how to make the most of this not normal season.  I just want to wake up and find that everything was really just an “out of body experience” bad dream.  But when I’m hit with the reality that no, this is not a bad dream, this new normal is history I’m still living through, I just want to hibernate.  In my mind, I’m often thinking “please wake me up when people treat each other with decency again, when we can trust each other, when social distancing is back to being a thing that introverts like myself CHOOSE.  Thanks.”

I feel exhausted in every sense of the word, and there is no end in sight.  Instead of being able to find the light at the end of the tunnel, I’m having to believe the Light is present in the tunnel.  I’m learning to cling to the Light I know is real and exists.  So in my struggle to MOVE out of bed, I cry for help.  And you know what comes to mind? The children’s Sunday School song, “This Is the Day,” which is taken from Psalms 118:24.  This verse states, This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. (ESV).  Right in the struggle to MOVE out of bed, I hear this children’s song in my head and I feel both annoyed and convicted.  Because honestly, what is there to rejoice about?  What am I supposed to be glad about?  And after hearing myself ask these questions, I begin repenting of centering life around my comfort rather than on God’s grace.  Though I don’t feel like it, I will MOVE and get myself out of the bed.  And I will rejoice - choose to be joyful in this new day I’ve been given.  

This attitude shift helps me MOVE and I give thanks that I can give thanks.  I give thanks for my loud and healthy kids at home with me.  I give thanks for the blue skies and the sun’s rays outside my window.  I give thanks for shelter and for food.  I give thanks for a new day to learn to rejoice because this is the day that the Lord has made.  I am glad to have toothpaste to brush my teeth and wash away my morning breath.  I am glad to be able to MOVE out of my bedroom and into the chaos that this new day will bring.  I still feel tired in my bones, but I can MOVE and choose to rejoice and be glad, not because everything is how I wish it could be, but because this is the day that the Lord has made.

These simple words from the children’s Sunday School song are the lamp unto my feet.  I’m guided as to how to MOVE in this tunnel - with an attitude of gladness.  A lot feels dark and I can’t see the light at the end, but there is a tangible Lamp, a living and breathing Light that recenters my heart and reminds me why I MOVE.  These words light my path.  It is hard to MOVE when I don’t know where I am going, but it is possible to MOVE when the path at my feet is lit up with God’s grace and truth.  Friends, I don’t know if there really is a light at the end of this tunnel we are currently living through, but I do know that there is a tangible Light in the tunnel.  Together, let us cling to God’s words and MOVE and be tangible light.  It will still be hard.  There will be heartaches.  But we can still choose to rejoice and be glad because today is a gift from God.  For today, this present day, is the day that the Lord has made.   

Joanne is a SoCal native who currently lives in Taiwan with her husband of twelve years. She is a wife to a pastor and a mama to five kids and a Golden Retriever. She appreciates free time to take walks, sleep, and slowly eat her food. You can find more of her reflections on Instagram @mom.of.wu .

Photo by Ruan Richard on Unsplash