Nica Update:  Joy to the World Dear Family and Friends, I (Lisa) stood there, unable to sing the words.  Tears in my eyes, heart swelling with thanks.   The song was in Spanish, but I knew the words in English.  "Though the sorrow may last for the night, His joy comes with the morning."  I was in the midst of Nicaraguan friends - the grounds workers, cooks, and cleaning staff of NCA.  People who have endured great hardship and are economically among those who we might call "poor".  When I am with them though, I see how rich they are and how much they have to give.   They were singing as loud as they could with hands raised, . . . body, mind, and soul fully engaged.  Isabel sits next to me.  Never have I known a voice so strong and beautiful.  I tell her that her shoes are pretty.  She says, "Gracias".  And then she says, "You need to say, "A la orden" (which means something like "you're welcome).  We laugh together – she loves to teach us. I am pressed but not crushed persecuted, but not abandoned struck down, but not destroyed I am blessed beyond the curse, for His promise will endure and His joy will be my strength.  I look two rows up to see Blanca – she lost her teenage daughter a little over a year ago.  Ana Gabriela drowned in a torrential downpour while walking home from school.  I watch Blanca praise and laugh and beam with joy. I'm trading my sickness, I'm trading my pain, I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord.   Then, there was Rosita sitting behind me, a spirited woman who always inspires me because of her enthusiasm for life.  I remember the day we celebrated her graduation from grade school as a middle aged woman.  I admire her determination.  I'm trading my sorrows, I'm trading my shame, I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord.  And Carmen, mother of many, gifted seamstress whose face and manner remind me so much of my grandma.  She sewed curtains for my children's rooms, nurturing us like a mother and a grandma does.  Jose Angel sits in front of us.  He is the maker of bookshelves which are a centerpiece in our living room.  A kind and gentle servant heart.  We say yes Lord, yes Lord, yes, yes Lord, yes Lord, yes Lord, yes, yes Lord, yes Lord, yes Lord, yes, yes Lord, amen.  And then there is Chepe, full of fun and life.  I watch him lower the piñata which is in the form of a bell onto the head of an unsuspecting friend.  He laughs along with all who watch him.  Chepe rides his bicycle two hours to work at NCA and two hours back home each day.  When I am having a bad day, I look for Chepe because he always has a smile for me, a smile that heals and loves.  . . .  though the sorrow may last for the night His joy comes with the morning.  I look down the row to see my husband . . . child fatherless at the age of 7.  It is written on his father's tombstone . . . though the sorrow may last for the night, His joy comes with the morning.  I've had the privilege of living with a man who believed and keeps believing in joy in the midst of sorrow . . . a lifetime of sorrow because you never stop missing your Dad.  Hence, the tears and the heart full of thanks . . . thanks for the privilege of being in relationship with people who are resolved to live "joy" when they have every right to live buried in sorrow, resentment, bitterness, and anger.  The other night, Will said to me at bedtime as we exchanged our last words for the day, "Mom, I just wouldn't trade my life for any other life."  I said, "Me too, Will.  Me too."    Joy.  I've never known it like this before.    Joy to the World.   Joy to you beloved child of God.   And peace,   Dan, Lisa, Rebekah, and Will