Today I’m happy to share the second guest post in my guest blog series on the seven practices I write about in my new book, Putting Joy into Practice: Seven Ways to Lift Your Spirit from the Early Church, published by Paraclete Press and released on April 16, 2019. This time, you don’t have to take it from me – each guest shares his or her own stories about how each practice helps him or her experience joy.

Today’s guest post comes from my dear friend Nardeen Loka. I’ve had the blessing of serving with her at youth retreats and have learned so much from her. She shares her experiences with the second practice, visiting the sick, by visiting two terminally ill patients during the past Great Lent, and how the joy of the Resurrection sustained her. This is her first guest post on my blog and it probably won’t be the last!

By Nardeen Loka

Christ is Risen! The most powerful phrase there ever was! God’s timing and plans are always perfect. I received the preview copy of Putting Joy Into Practice by Phoebe Farag Mikhail at the beginning of Lent, which this year happened to be a very rough period for me. I was physically exhausted, and even more so, emotionally drained, for a few different reasons. One of these reasons was knowing of two terminally ill members of my community. They were in my bigger circle, so I didn’t really have to be very involved with them if I didn’t want to. As I was reading this book, however, I was reminded that one of the ways to put joy into practice is visiting the sick. From an earthly point of view, it didn’t really make sense. I kept on reading. As I finished the chapter, I was prepared and motivated to step out of my comfort zone and become more involved with those two cases, although they were both very sick, and I knew they wouldn’t be with us much longer. 

One of those sick people was an older, father figure to all, who I loved very dearly and looked up to greatly. He lived a good, full life, so his terminal illness wasn’t much of a surprise to myself or to his family. Still, no one likes to see a loved one suffer or appear so weak. I visited him frequently. I liked visiting him. As I continued to see him, he was gradually becoming less conscious until he eventually entered a minimally responsive state. Despite this limited alertness, every time I went to visit I would call his name and smile at him, and every time I would see him open his eyes and attempt to smile back at me.  I then would kiss him, pray with him as I held his hand, ask him to pray for me, and then I would leave feeling blessed. Despite the mixed feelings I initially had, these visits never failed to put joy in my heart!

The other situation was a very lively young mother of two young boys. This woman was diagnosed with a very rare and aggressive form of cancer, and it was rapidly withering her away. In this case though, I was more involved with her caregiver than her personally. This was a much tougher one. Definitely, a heartbreaking situation, with lots of questions without answers. To be very honest, I didn’t usually come out joyful after these encounters. They put so much emotional stress on me, and I felt so helpless that I had nothing to offer other than a listening ear, compassion, empathy and a hug here and there.

Weeks passed during Lent, and I continued to visit them and ask about their caregivers, whether by visits, phone calls, or text messages. I prayed for them all, A LOT. I prayed for myself too. I prayed for peace and wisdom, which I needed much of. I prayed to feel joy and for them to feel joy, which seemed impossible at the time. I prayed a weekly late afternoon Lenten liturgy, with fasting and metanoias (prostrations), praying for peace, strength, and joy. At the very end of one of those liturgies, I began praying the prayer after communion silently in my heart, “My heart was filled with joy, and my tongue with gladness,” but I stopped there, with tears in my eyes. I cried and couldn’t continue praying. I left the church and spent my thirty minute car ride home praying with a loud voice, “God, I’m lying. My heart is not filled with joy. I need it! Please give me joy.”

The week before Holy Pascha Week, both of them passed away, two days apart. That week’s schedule was limited to work, funeral, wake – or rather, funerals and wakes! In the midst of this, I continued to pray for a better vision of the bigger picture, for the true joy of the Resurrection. In my head, I was singing Christos Anesti throughout the wakes where everyone was wearing black and crying. On my way home, I bought myself a wooden plaque with “He is Risen!” written on it. I placed it in my room, right before my eyes to see first thing in the morning when I wake up, and last thing before I go to sleep. Christ is risen!

During Holy Week, I gathered my thoughts together and recalled my emotional roller coaster of the past few weeks. I actually thanked God that He gave me the opportunity and ability to taste a new kind of joy. The joy of seeing Christ Himself in those situations, not just the crucified Christ, but the Resurrected Christ. Seeing Christ in visiting the sick, just as He said, “I was sick and you visited me.” (Matthew 25), gives joy! The joy of being in His presence. When we are in His presence, we see Him and He sees us, and that is sufficient to place joy in our hearts. “Therefore you now have sorrow; but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and your joy no one will take from you” John 16:22. No one? Not sickness? Not even death? Not suffering? Yes, not even that. He can give us this kind of joy! His words are powerful! This is joy that is beyond our human nature to understand.

Soon enough it was Good Friday. The holiest (and my favorite) day of the year. The quickest nine hour service with its special prayers, readings, and hymns. Merely hours later, it was Bright Saturday, where the church transitions to become all adorned in white veils. A heavenly night, where we Passover from death to life, from sorrow to joy. We sing praises, from midnight to dawn, and everyone’s wide awake and joyful as if it’s midday. Then we read the whole book of Revelation. As we read, I highlighted this much-needed verse, “I am He who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore. Amen. And I have the keys of Hades and of Death” Revelation 1:18. Aren’t these words enough to fill our hearts with joy? Only a few hours later we are back for the liturgy of the Feast of Resurrection, where we sing the doxology in a joyful tune, “Then our mouths are filled with joy and our tongues with rejoicing, for our Lord Jesus Christ, has risen from the dead.” Then the deacons and the priests go around the church in a procession singing “Ekhristos Anesti” in a long joyful tune and the whole congregation is singing along. I sang. I smiled. Christ is Risen!

Throughout Holy Week and Easter, I followed up with the caregivers of both families, and they were at peace. Truly, as Isaiah the prophet said, “To console those who mourn in Zion, To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning…” (Isaiah 61:3). They were thankful for my presence with them during this difficult time, and expressed their gratitude and appreciation. Truthfully, I felt like I hadn’t done anything, because I really hadn’t! I was being served more than I was serving them. This particular passage from Putting Joy into Practice described it well, “With the Holy Spirit dwelling within us as Christ promised, we will not only feel joy in our hearts because of the grace within, but we will be joy to others, to everyone we encounter. The greatest mystery is that in being joy to others, we ourselves feel joy. In a glorious circle, we get to taste of the very same fruit we bear for others.”

Now we are in the joyous Fifty Days. I asked our priest to connect me with a few sick people who may want someone to visit and ask about them, to provide some comfort. I am constantly praying that God comforts my heart and fills it with joy to share with others. Saint Paul experienced this first hand, saying “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” II Corinthians 1:3-4  

Christ is risen! Truly, He is Risen!

Nardeen Loka is a wife and mother of two children. She grew up in Dubai, went to medical school in Alexandria, Egypt, and lived in Florida for a few years before settling in New York. She now practices medicine while also serving alongside her husband Fr. Joseph Loka at St. Abraam’s Coptic Orthodox Church in Woodbury, NY. She enjoys family, traveling, and beach walks. Both her and her daughter love Disney and chocolate.

If you would like to learn more about Putting Joy into Practice, listen to this audio interview with Laura Michael of Coptic Dad & Mom, or watch this interview with Dr. Michael Saad on LogosTV.

Purchase your copy of Putting Joy into Practice through my affiliate link here, or visit Paraclete Press for bulk orders for book clubs, churches, and bookstores here.