Once, many years ago, I was in a despair the likes of which I could not shake. Scott was at Va. Tech in school; Meredith was far away working; Pete was out of town. Michael was in high school and on Spring Break. I needed hope so desperately and my skin, my being, could not stay at home and go to work one more day in such a state of hopelessness.
I asked Michael if he would agree to a road trip, and he was kind enough to oblige. We threw some stuff in a bag and headed west. I dropped Michael off at Scott’s apartment in Blacksburg for a guys’ night, and I went to a local hotel. It was nothing special but this is what you get in Blacksburg with no notice.
That night I was in bed as soon as I got to the room; I woke early the next morning, went out to get coffee and a breakfast sandwich and returned to the solitude of the rented room. I transferred the steaming coffee into my favorite mug and retrieved my quiet time materials. Then I sat. I just sat. I reminded myself that I sit because there is a God and I am not him. I sit to honor his presence, without expecting to hear his voice. It is enough to sit. I sat until I could bear to listen. Then I opened my tattered copy of “Rooted In God’s Love” and turned to the next entry, finding this prayer from Dale and Juanita Ryan:
Lord of joy,
Lord of celebration,
open my heart to the possibility of joy today.
Help me to tolerate the confusion
that comes when sorrow and joy live side by side in my heart.
Give me the courage to
joyfully celebrate life.
Without a lot of fanfare, my mind opened to a new way of seeing - unbidden and undeserved - hope showed up in the nick of time. I saw how my day-to-day activities often created the illusion that life was more sorrow than joy. As my vision “corrected,” I grabbed my journal and out flowed the joy. The moment I turned and looked at my boys the previous evening, so glad to be together with game controllers in hand. The beauty of the coming Spring evident in the Virginia mountains that I so deeply love. On and on my joy poured out on the pages of my notebook. None of this was news to me, but it had ALL been forgotten. I was bogged down in confusion and sorrow, missing the joy that lived side by side in my heart.
So my friend, as we work to “get it right” - which is a good thing, we must find time to connect to our joy. We sit and wait on the Lord to give us the gift of hope - a gift that comes with no strings. But we also “get it right” as we take time to rightly remember. Look for the joy. Sorrow is a needy beast always yapping at our heels for our attention. Joy is far kinder and more polite. She waits for us to notice her, sitting patiently, eager to connect with us. Friends - find the joy! Then spread it around all willy nilly!