can you feel the Illinoise?

This has nothing to do with Illinois, Ron Zook, John Gacy, or choirs, I just think Sufjan Stevens is incredible. I've been listening to it a lot lately, and I'm finding new things, new subtle sounds that are very appealing to me. I'm stuck at work again, gotta love these opening shifts! I was thinking/praying on the walk over here this morning in the dark, and I realized something. For a while now, ever since i got Crowder's new album, I've been praying that He would be my joy. Such a profound, yet simple statement, and it's such a deep desire of my heart. I used to say, a few months ago, that God doesn't give me a lot of joy, but I serve Him anyways. But now it's a little bit different, now He is my joy, but it's not this church camp Jesus high feeling.
When I was praying this morning, once again, that He would be my joy, I realized that He never wasn't my joy. I'm not all giggly inside, singing happy-Jesus you rock-songs in my head as if i've got a live feed from AirOne, but I've got this hope. And this hope gives me joy, but a joy that I haven't really known before. Las night we were all at the FLUHouse and Matt asked me if everything was ok, just checking in on me, and I simply told him "I'm not going to fall apart anytime soon." I guess that could sound cynical, but it wasn't, with the right tone of voice of couse. And it's true, I'm not. Yeah, things aren't the best, I don't feel like I'm completely under God's unfailing grace all the time cause Satan feeds me lies and sometimes they get past my defenses, and my expectations for life are usually let down, but it doesn't matter. All of this really doesn't matter. I've got Jesus in my heart (how Sunday School-esque is that?), and that nullifys practically everything else.
I was over at my friend Pam's appartment last night, asking her some questions about games to play with kids (you know those YoungLife kids...they can work it.) and Katie Wilkinson told us that she went to a press conference today about the semi truck that hit the van and school bus, causing the van to go up in flames instantly, killing everyone inside. Yeah, that in and of itself sucks a lot, but once you know who was in the van, it gets even worse. A 15 year old was driving his 6 brothers and sisters. All gone. One family lost 7 kids in a matter of minuets. That was probably the worst thing that I've heard since 9/11. There have probably been worse accidents, but 1) It was so close to home, Lake Butler and 2) It was so personal. In Intro to FYCS last semster, they put such an emphasis on the family being a solitary unit for support, supplies, and strength (alliteration aside, I think i'll take my chances), and how if you don't have that, it causes a torrent of problems. And here is this family, with 7 kids ( I think some were adopted, none the less, a kid is a kid) all dead because one guy failed to see that the light was red. So I wonder, what is running through the parents minds? What kind of hope do they have now? I'm not sure where they stand with Jesus, but that one standpoint now changes everything. Now I look at myself and wonder what would happen if I was in that situation. I honestly don't know. With such horrific images, thoughts and emotions running through my veins, I really don't know what I would do in that situation. Could I honestly say that I love the driver of that semitruck? I really don't know. But I do know that all of this would make the Destination all the sweeter. And when we get there...all that Illinoise wouldn't be there. No more Sufjan Stevens, no more David Crowder, no more NPR, no more KEXP or Christopher O'Riley. But once again, the Destination nullifies all of this, for all I want to sing is Isaiah 6, over and over and over and over and over and over again. And there will be nore more crying, no more pain or ugliness, no more semi trucks running red lights or planes hitting skyscrapers, and no more fear.
So this family, that lost everything, maybe has no hope now, maybe (hopefully) they have all the hope in the world via Christ. And I'm thankful, for all that I have, and if the Lord takes it all away, Job style, then I pray that my hope would remain the same and that my faith wouldn't fail me. That hope, of something better, gives us joy, and gives us strenght to get through. And all of this comes down to me not caring what my circumstances are, because they really don't matter, much like my opinions. I put my hand on my chest. Yes. I am still alive. And that gives me hope.