Tag Archives: Joy Dekok

New Wheels – A Legacy Story

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This was a big day for me. Although I don’t remember where my turquoise tricycle was purchased, it was on a dress-up kind of day. It was rare that I rode in a dress and my fancy shoes.

I’d loved my stroller, sled, and wagon, but a tricycle was different. It meant a new kind of freedom. I loved the way my strong little legs could make that thing move. I crashed more than once trying to see how fast I could go before losing control. Pushing the limit was worth the pain of skinned knees.

Not long after I was given my new wheels, my dad came home for lunch between jobs. He worked two, and we didn’t get a lot of time together. When it was time for him to leave, we said good-by, but I was not done seeing him.

A few blocks from home, for some reason, he can’t remember; he looked in his rearview mirror. He was surprised to see me in the  middle of the road, pedaling my trike as fast as I could. He says he was afraid for me – it was a normally busy road, and that he was also surprised by my determination. He took me and my tricycle home. After being sternly admonished for my actions, I’m told I was a very good girl the rest of the day. Well of course I was. Admonishment aside, I’d gotten a few more minutes with my daddy. That had been the whole point.

When I look at this picture of me and my  new wheels, I always think of the circus – a small one that came to town, and I wore this dress and these shoes. I remember the smell of the elephants and popcorn. Under the big tent, it was hot, and I felt itchy. In those days, little girls dressed up for almost every public event, and many of my memories involve outfits and hair styles. We weren’t rich, and we didn’t go often, but we always looked nice when we did. But, not when playing outside. Getting a big present like this when it wasn’t my birthday (which is in December), was an “event” in my life and those often happened after Sunday school and dinner. (Although she’s not certain, Mom thinks this might have also been the day we went to the circus. If that’s true, it was a big day in my life for sure.)

After a few years, I wore my pretty tricycle out. When one of the back wheels fell off, and Daddy couldn’t fix it because it had rusted off, we had to get rid of it. I already had a two-wheeler by then, but my Chatty Cathy “rode” my tricycle strapped on with one of Dad’s old belts (we didn’t have seat belts in cars yet) while I pushed us along with one foot on the ground and the other on the ”back step” of the trike. My girl and I went a lot of places in the neighborhood together.

Giving up this set of wheels was like letting a part of me go. I’ve felt that way about most of the bikes and cars in my life. They aren’t a live, but they sure make living easier and more fun.

Joy

YOUR LIFE, A LEGACY if FREE for KINDLE READERS through Feb 5th. You can get it HERE.

 

 

 

 

His Promise – A Legacy Story

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His Promise . . . 20 Years Later

The author of the book His Promise- 20 Years Later and I “met” through our mutual friend, Gina. She shared Candra’s book with me and my book, Rain Dance, with Candra. Today, I want to share a review of Candra’s book and an email she sent me with her permission. It really is amazing how God brings His kids together.

The Book

His Promise is a small book with huge impact. Candra writes about her life with courage and honesty. As my eyes took in the words and my mind absorbed her message, I felt like she was in the room with me.

About half way through the book these words stopped me. Not because I’ve ever experienced a moment like this, I haven’t, but I know dozens of women who have.

“Are you pregnant?” All I could whisper was, “I don’t know. I never thought of that.”

Today thousands of young, unmarried women are facing this question and are giving a similar response. That’s why as I read this book, I asked God, “Please get this book into the hands of as many young women as You can.”

This book is full of a woman’s beautiful, at times heart-breaking, faith-filled story. She admits to her imperfections and turns readers hearts and minds toward His absolute perfection.

His Promise is a Legacy story that has the power to make a difference in the lives of women today and in the generations to come.

If you love a teenaged woman, I encourage you to buy two copies of His Promise – one for you and one for her. You can buy them HERE.

I also invite you to visit Candra’s website at:  http://www.candraall4him.com/index.htm

Reading her book and listening to her music, I discovered a truly beautiful woman inside and out.

From Candra’s email to me:

The Music:

The song Trust In Me is the song that I wrote that goes along with the book. It was a personal journal I had written to the Lord in my time of trial.  In 2000 I was at the piano playing some music I had played for years  a pastor walked in and said.. “That is beautiful, do you have words to it?”  With out even thinking I said “Yep”… and just as quickly said “I have no idea why I just said that I have words because I do not have words, in fact I have been trying to write words for years but nothing seems to work,”  and as we laughed it off, I heard the Lord clearly say… “Yes you do, they are in your drawer in the file at home”  Whew… that is random I thought, and so after worship that day I went home and the only file cabinet I had was a little white one in my daughters bedroom.   I went in her room,  opened the bottom drawer, and there as I opened was this spiral note-book.  In it was the prayer and journal I had written as I was faced with my pregnancy.. Gods PROMISE to me… “Raise him to share my word and I will bless your child”  Gods promise to me in my time of complete despair.  I sat at the piano, played the cords I had played for years with out words and slowly the music became a song.

I began sharing the song with close family, and honestly is seemed a little silly… me writing a song..  who would even listen to at that?.. So I tucked it away in a drawer, and slowly the Lord would share another song with me, and I would write it down, place the cords I was hearing over the words, and then tuck them away.  I remember thinking, “Who am I to think I can write?”

I was in a business meeting one day with a pastor I had just met and he randomly stopped me just as we were getting started and said “I think I am supposed to pray for you”.  I said “Ok,” and lowered my head not knowing what was next.   Pastor began praying and immediately I knew it was the Lord speaking directly to me.  This pastor that was sitting with me did not know ANYTHING about me personally.  We had briefly met professionally, and as he spoke, God very clearly said 3 things to me that were very personal, so much so that I had never even spoken in prayers with my husband. I was so in awe of what was happening I began to cry in the presence of the Lord.

One of the three things the pastor spoke  was…The Lord wants you to know, that HE has given you music with the full composition and the enemy has made you believe they are worthless and silly and made you to believe that you could not be used  to write songs.  But the Lord have given you a gift, and it is not for you to keep but for you to share.  You are the only one that can hear  the  melody, the sounds the complete composition to and i it is not for YOU to keep but to put down and share that people will be changed and come into his kingdom…that they will know the truth of who I am….

He finished praying over me,  looked at his watch and said, Gosh I am sorry I have to head out, we will have to finish another time if that is possible. I sat in that office for another half hour composing myself and sitting in awe that the Lord almighty sent that pastor to pray over me and speak so directly to me that I could but know that I had a visitation for God.  Incredible!!!

That began my journey to record.  Every time I would set a time to go record Trust In Me, the Lord would reveal another song and I would recorded the newest one before I FINALLY finished the album in 09.  We really left it pretty rough with the anticipation that people would just have music to minister to them in their homes and cars.  We released the CD in 2010, and then as I began to write as I describe in the front of the book, I realized that His Promise 20 Years Later was the very PROMISE God had made to me in that journal 20 years earlier.  Now seriously, even writing this I am leaving out so many other details that lead up to me writing.

I would have to write another book and probably will some day but for example,  during one of my devotion times years earlier I clearly hear the Lord say… His Promise 20 Years Later.. I WROTE it in my journal not having any idea what it would be about… until when he said it is time to write, and I said what are we writing about Lord and he reminded me of my journal and the words His Promise 20 Years Later.  Payton Turned 20 as I started this book.  I started the first week of January and he turned 20 January 18 2000.  Now this is even cooler… as I would write and edit and write and edit, and they would send a final for me to review, I would make a quick detail edit that just did not settle right and send it back to them. Every time I sent it back it would take a week plus for them to return the final which again I would comb through inevitable find an error and send back.  Well I thought I had it perfect, and so as I slowly read through every page I only go to the acknowledgments before I saw a grammatical error in my words to my mother Sidney.  With everything inside of me I wanted to pretend I did not see the error, but I knew if ANYONE would find the error it would be mom and with so much frustration and wanting to be finished, I made the note of correction, sent to back to the publisher and said I am so sorry… this one word has to be corrected.  I fully expected to not hear from them for another week or so, and to my surprise, I got an email about an hour later saying they had fixed it real quick, and asked me to sign off.  I thought SWEET that is to cool. So I printed off the draft, and the signature page and began to sign off on the final copy of the book to go to print.  As I wrote the date  1/18/2011 I began to cry as I had not even realized that the day I would sign off on the book His Promise 20 Years Later was Payton’s 21 birthday. Not only that, but that God’s promise for him was complete blessing. Payton was living in Costa Rico at that very moment  doing the Lords work ministering to the lost  people on the streets.  Now tell me God is not in the details. My eyes are weepy just rewriting this. All the details of his perfect plan being unfolded in front of my very eyes and I am continually being wowed by his touch, the Lord of all the universe, he is SO REAL!!!

I want to thank Candra for letting me share her words with you.

Joy

 

 

 

Miracles – A Review

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Miracles: 32 True Stories

Job 5:9 (NIV)
He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted.

I bought Miracles because although I know God does miracles, I wanted to KNOW He does miracles. This book with 32 true-life stories of God’s divine intervention deepened my faith and awakened my desire to be on the look-out for them in my own life and in the lives of those around me.

Then, there was the sermon in our church this weekend based on Hebrews 2:1-4. The part of the passage that stood out to me was in verse 4 which says (words in bold and in the parentheses mine), “God also testified to it (our salvation) by signs, wonders and various miracles, and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will.

When we hear or read these testimonies of various miracles, our salvation is once again affirmed – God is at work in the souls and bodies of people today. We are changed when we know about them and those who don’t believe may come to salvation because we testify about them. Author, Joanie Hileman, gives the miracle receivers in her book a place to testify and in every story, God is glorified.

Not long ago, I released my new book, Your Life, a Legacy, where I urge people to explore and record the stories of their lives. Miracles is a what I call a Legacy book. Like many others who have read this book, I laughed and cried, but I also found my heart marveling anew at God’s love.

If you let them, the stories in Miracle will move you to tears. If you welcome them, them they will be a balm to you as a believer even if your miracle doesn’t come this side of heaven.

You can buy Miracles HERE. And. . .check it out tomorrow – the price is going to be just right for everyone!

Product Description:

A dying child counts angels in her room. A teenage boy stuns doctors by recovering from a massive brain injury. A bubble of protection surrounds a man about to be hit by a car…These miraculous accounts and twenty-nine more are recorded in Miracles: 32 True Stories.

Endorsement:

“Almost every month I get a request to either read or edit a book or booklet, and to be honest, I dread to see them coming, because most of them are hardly worthy of a positive recommendation. When Joan asked me to read her Miracles, I was not looking forward to reading it at all … much to my surprise I could not stop reading it until I had read the entire book. Each story was different enough to keep my interest, and God’s finger-print was all over each of the stories told. There was never one bit of doubt who authored each of those stories…” Bill Irwin, Christian Author & Speaker

 

A Very Good Oh So Awful Bad Day in First Grade

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 (This is me in Sept 1963. The jumper is dark green cordouroy and the blouse is the same green striped on white. The curls are the courtsey of my pink sponge rollers. The band-aid could have been from any number of activities – I did everything fast and with enthusiasm – band-aids were a normal part of my life.)

 I thought school was the greatest social club every invented. I’d get to wear nice clothes, play with my friends, and do my other favorite things: read and write.

Kindergarten was great. We played, we snacked, had show and tell, colored, and went home. What’s not to love?

I should have known first grade was going to be a challenge the day I met Teacher. Mom took me in and the lady behind the desk asked me some questions about how far I could count (to 100), what words I could read (more than she expected), and what my favorite color was (lavender). Things got a little tense when she asked me how many colors I had in my box. My delighted answer: 64. Her eyebrows raised, she clicked her tongue, and shook her head at me.

I smiled. I was so happy to be there.

On the way home, Mom suggested I keep my reading and writing skills quiet until after Teacher had taught them. I agreed and then because it made no sense to me, I forgot.

One day I arrived at school feeling especially full of life. My desk started out in it’s normal place in the row, but in the course of the day traveled to beside Teacher’s desk, the corner, and the coathall. I finally ended up sitting on the cold floor in the hallway. I was told loud whispers, writing on the wall, and singing out loud in the coat hall were not acceptable behaviors.

It only took me a second to notice the other kids in the hallway. Three of them. Just the right number for a quick game of tag. Things were going well, until the other kids (who werre far more experienced at hall sitting than I was) returned at top speed to their doors.

Before I could ask them why, a large, but gentle hand rested on shoulder. My principal asked me what I was doing. I turned to him as if announcing great news and said, “We were playing tag!”

Okay – so that wasn’t acceptable either. While waiting for my mom to come and have a talk with Mr. Carlson and me, I watched Teacher explain the behavior he’d missed. She shook her finger at me as she passed and the secretary ushered me into the glass walled office. I asked if he was going to spank me, (they could do that in the way olden days) and I watched amazed as he tried very hard not to smile at me. His eyes danced with the same kind of mischief I felt coursing through my veins.

He said,”No, I’ll leave that to your parents.”

That sounded better than getting the black paddle whacked on my bottom in that office where anyone walking by could see me getting punished.

Mom came in and I admitted to my various escapades and was told they would be dealt with when I got home. Back in the classroom, I found my desk in a new position: Up front by the chalkboard. I watched carefully as Teacher wrote the numbers 1 – 10 on the board. Then, she pointed to each number and said, “One, two, TREE. . .” I had no idea I was going to laugh out loud until I heard myself. Her dentures didn’t fit well and her “th’s” came out as “ts.” I thought it was the funniest thing I’d ever heard.

I was appropriately punished at home and gave my solumn promise to be a good girl. The sad part was my reputation had been established and if someone else whispered loudly, Teacher often assumed it was me. It got so bad, Daddy had to come to school and talk to her about it. So did Mr. Carlson. Although she blamed me for a lot of things I didn’t do, I still did plenty, but the difference was, I was willing to “own up” to my actions. Mama was teaching me that telling the truth was very important for good girls and I was working very hard on my “good degree.”

Except on those days when mischief ran in my veins. Then, I’d carefully weigh the pros and cons of being naughty: if I do this, this will happen. Often, I decided the punishment was worth it.

On the last day of school, Teacher hugged and kissed me and told me, “I’m retiring because of you. I will never teach again. Your second grade teacher has been warned about you. I hope she has a better year than I did. I love you.”

I cried the whole way home. I worked even harder on being good that summer. I also felt something change inside me. Yes, I know I needed the discipline and I don’t blame any of the adulits in my life who had to apply it in one form or another. I’m grateful for their love and investment in me.

The change was the blame and shame that bruised my spirit. Learning that had once been easy,was immediately hindered. It was as if a metal door had been slammed shut in my brain. Being a good girl (defined by sitting still at all times - which meant no twirling or dancing – and being quiet) took a lot of energy as I struggled to be who I wasn’t. I still loved school and my friends, but the delight learning once brought was gone.

I ran into Teacher years later, when I was sixteen and working in the women’s department of our Tempo store. I was so glad to see her, certain she’d forgiven me in the tens years since I’d seen her, I told her who I was. Instead, she made it clear she still blamed me for ending her teaching career. She shook her finger at me, clicked her tongue again and said, “Be good!” She also refused to let me help her find what she was looking for.

I cried as I drove myself home that night carrying that old blame and shame on my shoulders.The metal door that had started to re-open, slammed shut again and I barely passed my tests the next day although I’d studied hard and knew the answers. Would I ever be good enough?

When I met her again at sixteen, I’d also just become a born-again Christian and was experiencing the wonder of God’s forgiveness. I’m sad, because I’ve  learned she never forgave me. That is probably the most valuable thing Teacher taught me: forgiveness is a choice.

It really is amazing how one very good oh so awful bad day in first grade can impact your life.

 Thanks for letting me share this Legacy story with you. Do you have one from your life you’d like to share? Email me joydekok57@gmail.com and put “Legacy” in the subject line.

Joy

 

 Joy DeKok

Author of the newly released eBook, Your Life, a Legacy

Available HERE

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