Grasping at Joy

Seizing Joy. Grasping at Joy

Joy is a gift. One of those elusive fruits of the Holy Spirit. It seems to come and go, living in the corners and popping out from under cabinets (like the mouse that currently terrorizes my kitchen).

I want to be a joyful person. I want to live in those joy moments that come so unexpectedly. That my children seem to find so readily. They laugh with abandon at the piling of couch cushions into a mountain, jumping up and down with delight. They revel in the attention of wrestling, tickling, cuddling, and reading books. They don’t have to grasp at joy.

I do. I live among to-do lists, tasks, and responsibilities. I love my lists, crossing off items as I work through them. I hire a babysitter so that I can get things done. And my work is good. It is. It is good for me, it is good for my family (someone does need to do the laundry), and it is good for my community.

I do the tasks, mostly uncomplaining… not always, but mostly. But I know that there is more. That these tasks, menial as they are, are meant to be done with love. And that one of the fruits of love is joy.

I’ve tried surrounding myself with inspiration—quotes, pictures, statues. After a while, I no longer see them. I go about my day routinely, frequently getting to the end of the day without thinking about why I do these tasks—about the God who asks for them to be done with love, with intention. Who asks for us to pray unceasingly, which to me means that we must live our lives intentionally—as a gift to Him. And as a gift for those around us.

I want to be joyful. Nothing speaks to me more of God’s love more than the joy of his disciples. I crave it, and yet I forget about it ALL THE TIME. How can I find joy in the everyday? How can I tease it out of the corners and into my soul?

This is my project: to write it down. To put it out there for the world to see, if it cares to. Because accountability to others might just keep me honest. It might keep me trying long enough to actually grasp the joy that I seek.