Joy Comes in the Morning
The Word Wealth on this page highlights “joy” in Psalm 30:5: “rinnah (ree-nah); Strong’s #7440: A shout of rejoicing; shouting; loud cheering in triumph; singing. Rinnah describes the kind of joyful shouting at the time of a great victory. In Prov. 11:10, rinnah describes the jubilation of the righteous when the wicked are eliminated. Zeph. 3:17 literally says that God will dance over His beloved people with singing or a shout of joy. Rinnah may best be illustrated by the testimony of the redeemed, returning to Zion from captivity. Rinnah is the word for both singing and joy.
Joy. The opposite of what we were feeling this time last year. But God has a way of turning the deepest despair into the most radiant joy.
A couple of months into our marriage, in early 2022, we found out we were pregnant. When I went for my first check-up at 10 weeks, the ultrasound revealed that the baby had died around week 7. We were devastated. After that appointment, we cried our way to Bob Evans and cried all over our pancakes. We were told we could wait up to 2 weeks to see if the baby came out naturally and if not, I would have to take a medication that forces your body into labor to expel the baby. We opted to hold off as long as we could, hoping that it would happen naturally.
There may have also been a small hope within me that God would bring the baby back to life.
After 2 weeks, nothing had happened. It was the weirdest thing, still feeling pregnant- nauseous on and off, bloated, yet knowing that the baby within was not living. It would hit me in the most random moments and leave me sobbing. At my next follow-up, they told me we needed to go ahead and get the medication ordered, that it would feel like period cramps and be over in a few hours.
Well, period cramps weren’t so bad, so how bad could this be?
This was awful. My body went from 0 to 100 in a few minutes, full-on labor that had me balled up on the floor screaming in pain. We ended up in the hospital because I thought I was dying, only for the doctor to tell me it was normal and “what did I expect?” as if I had caused this.
I bled for weeks. And then found out that the medication did not work completely and I would either have to take it again or have a D&C. I opted for the D&C.
The miscarriage happened in late January of 2022. I was still recovering physically from this in April. The emotional recovery took much longer. I was hurt and angry. A part of me felt like this may have been a punishment for things I had done in my past. Another part of me knew that was not God’s character, but I did question His goodness.
I clung to scripture that talked about pain and that spoke comfort. When I came across Psalm 30:5, Rinnah stood out to me and I knew…if God ever blessed us with a little girl, her name would be Rinnah.
You see, I never imagined I would have a little girl. I never imagined I would be married...to a man, anyway.
I grew up in a Christian home, as a missionary kid in southern Africa. I was in love with Jesus. But somewhere along the way, I lost my way. I became more interested in what others thought of me. I began playing soccer on a women’s team where women who were much older than me showed me attention that began to fill the void inside my heart that I had stopped allowing God to fill. Eventually, I found myself completely captivated by these new feelings that had been awakened inside. I began to desire the affection- physical and otherwise, of other women.
Mind you, before this, I broke up with a guy for attempting to kiss me because I was afraid it would come between me and my relationship with God.
For a while, I tried to hide it. That didn’t last long. I began drinking and showing up to church to lead youth or to play on the worship team completely hungover. I got kicked off of both. I begrudgingly went to church after that and got out of it any chance I could.
When I was 18 I began dating someone who lived in South Africa, older than me, a doctor. I hid this relationship for a while, but it came to light after I stole money from my parents and ran away from home to visit her. I destroyed every good and Godly friendship I had. I hurt my siblings and my parents daily with my harsh words and deceit. When it came time to leave Swaziland and come to the US for college, I was relieved to go and I think my parents, though they loved me very much, were relieved to have me go. I knew I would be back. My girlfriend and I were engaged, after all.
I attended a Women’s college in Baltimore. I got dreadlocks. Tattoos. I thought I was hot stuff. I cheated on my fiance. I didn’t know how to make it right, so I distracted myself with fling after fling after fling. I made some friends outside of school- a lesbian couple who were into swinging, drugs, and strip clubs. I got into a relationship with a dancer I met at one of these clubs that almost ended in me getting shot by the person she was in a relationship with the whole time we were supposedly dating.
During my senior year of college, I was in a somewhat stable relationship and started going to church again. It was an LGBT church, but for the first time in years, I was opening my Bible and journaling. Even in the darkness I was living in, I began to feel Him beckoning me. There had been moments throughout the previous years when I felt Him, but I would do whatever I could to try and silence Him- drink more, party more, whatever it took.
This time, I didn’t try…and I think I big part of why was because I was hoping He would tell me that I could have both- Him and this lifestyle that had become so comfortable, that had become my everything. I mean why not? The world told me this was fully possible.
What my girlfriend and I did not realize is that God was after us both. Our sisters had met in Louisiana- both in ministry school and on fire for God. They were praying fervently for us, along with so many others. My girlfriend went to Louisiana to a conference at her sister’s church. While she was away I felt in my heart that something big was about to happen. Change was in the air. I was terrified. She returned and told me that God had spoken to her while she was there and that this relationship was not what He had for us.
I was scared out of my mind. And then I got sick. I had a bad case of the flu and for 2 weeks I could do nothing but lay in bed and think…and listen. During this time God showed me an open window and the impression I had on my heart was that He was holding this window open for me, but if I did not choose to go through it now, it would close. Not because He was giving up on me, but because if I didn’t listen now, my heart would become so hard, I would no longer recognize His calling me.
I wanted my life. I didn’t have a clue how to live without these feelings and desires, this identity, but ultimately, the thought of a life without Him, though I tried to convince myself He wasn’t even real for years, terrified me.
One night, I came across a sign in my dorm elevator for a Christian event on campus. By the time I saw it, it was already halfway over. I went to my dorm room and tried to ignore this feeling I had inside that I needed to be there, but it was too strong.
I went. It was the end of service- the altar call. The speaker was reading Matthew 28:11- “Come to Me all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest”. It felt like all of the weight and hurt from the past 7 years suddenly landed on my shoulders and I couldn’t stand. I fell to my knees, sobbing, and prayed a prayer of surrender that would be the beginning of a journey I never thought possible.
Over the next months, year, I fell often. And every time I fell, He was there to remind me, not of how disappointed He was with me, but how much He loved me.
One weekend I fell pretty badly- ended up reconnecting with someone from my past and getting very drunk. On Sunday morning I woke up, filled with shame, and texted my mentor and family that I was done trying.
My mentor told me to get my butt to church.
When I walked in, there was a guest speaker singing a song “I want to fall in love with You all over again. Help me to fall in love with You. Sweet Jesus, sweet Savior, Creator of everything”. The simple yet profound words of this song broke my heart and again I found myself weeping on the floor. After she was done ministering she came to me and asked me to meet her outside. As I wept, she prayed over me and spoke words I will never forget.
She told me that though I didn’t believe it, God has made me beautiful and feminine and that He was restoring my femininity.
Then she said something that almost made me laugh. She said I would be married one day, that there would be a wedding. And that he would love me for me. I wrote all of this down in my journal, but I didn’t necessarily believe it. I was beginning to rediscover the goodness and the faithfulness and the perfect love of God, but I had a hard time imagining He could change me that much, that He could love me that much to restore in me all of the things I had given up on many, many years earlier.
I got dreads and dressed a certain way to try and be someone I was not. I thought that I could be tough and make my heart impenetrable by my exterior. Yet, there were times I would like someone who was more masculine and feel completely inadequate and worthless because they were looking for someone beautiful and feminine, and in an attempt to make up for these qualities I thought I inherently lacked, I tried to portray myself as the opposite.
I never imagined I would be married. First of all, I didn’t find men attractive, and second of all, I didn’t think any decent Christian guy would want to marry me…with my dreads, tattoos, and scars.
Between that moment and 2021, there were many times that I doubted. Like when I was talking to a guy who checked all of the boxes except that He told me I couldn’t talk about or share my testimony because it was in my past and did not need to be brought back up…ever. Or when I dated a guy that checked all of the boxes except he let me walk all over him and God made it very clear to me that I would need to be with someone who was not afraid to correct or stand up to me.
Oh submission. It has been such a hard lesson.
We got married in October of 2021. The same lady who was ministering that day in church, who God used to tell me I would be married, came to our wedding and sang that very same song that penetrated my heart so deeply so many years earlier.
Marriage is by far the hardest, most challenging thing I have ever, ever walked through. And we’re not even 2 years in! If you want to know everything that is wrong with you…just get married. It all comes to light. And it is not pretty!
I liked being served when it suited me, but other times I wanted things my way and if not my way, too bad, get over it. Submission was a much bigger problem than I thought…it is much easier to argue, fight till I get my way, try to prove him wrong…
Easier, indeed. But exhausting. Painful. There is no fruit there. We have come a long way in this one and a half years of being married. I think the biggest lesson has been that love is a choice and that my feelings can no longer drive my actions. Feelings are fickle and cannot be trusted. Love is crazy hard but it is so worth it. Regardless of how I feel, I must choose to love and to be loved. Isn’t this how it is in our relationship with God, too?
You see we serve a God who transforms. He transforms what we think is impossible to be transformed. He takes our stony hearts and breaks them so He can soften them to be molded into His likeness. He takes what the enemy meant to harm us and turns it for our good.
He takes a rebellious spirit and teaches us how to walk in gentleness and submission. He takes an insecure, scared girl who pretends to be tough and confident and shows her how to find her worth, identity, and authority in Him.
Verse 11-12 of Psalm 30 reads “You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, to the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.”
And in this past year, He has taken my sorrow, my despair, and turned it to joy, to dancing, to gladness. June used to be a month I dreaded…all things Pride, in your face, everywhere. Our little girl is due in June…so in a sense, He has turned what was at times a painful reminder of my past, into something to rejoice over and a reminder to thank Him for all He has done.
I will not be silent. He has done too much!
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