Like a silent ache, joy has been missing in my life. It’s been absent for a long while now. Don’t get me wrong. I feel happiness. I can be seen smiling and even laughing, but it’s the joy I lack. It’s the joy that is lost. Joy is a deep down in the gut feeling. It’s an assuredness…a soundness. You either have it or you don’t…and I’ve been missing it. It grabs the soul. It’s solid and real. Joy is different than happiness and laughter, being their foundation. It’s the core for the wellspring of life. It is a necessity to the spirit like water to the physical body. For a time grief, sorrow, heartache and pain have crowded it out. I’ve longed for it, searched for it, knowing it was missing, because I’ve had joy before. I know of its depth and solidness…its truthfulness. There is nothing like joy.
“Will I ever feel joy again?” I croaked in a quivering voice to my councilor. He was silent.
I’ve been missing joy, but recently I felt the stirrings of its return. A tiny speck of joy. It started every so slowly with a smile, a lightness of heart. I wasn’t surprised by it. I welcomed it. I was thankful for it, but I mustn’t get greedy and demands its fullness. Like a tiny mustard seed buried in a garden, it is there, unseen, known only to the earth. I know the potential of its growth. I must be patient for its completeness. I must not stifle it. I must nurture it, allowing it to grow. So I will wait with an open soul.
Hoping to be consumed by joy…