On Joy
by Rev. Cindy Halvorson, MDiv, DMin
I don’t feel joyful today. I wish I did … but I’m “off-kilter.” Typically, I’m an energetic, positive, and joyful person. Determinedly so! I know about resiliency and how to foster it in my life. I am competent and privileged enough to be able to make life-choices that garner a meaningful existence in serving others. My needs are met, and I am surrounded by an abundance of good things and good people. And still, today, I don’t feel joyful. Instead, I’m wondering … how does one write about joy when the news informs us of another mass shooting, plus the horrific stories about the happenings in Israel and Palestine? How do I focus on joy when my friends are living in war-torn Ukraine? And how, please tell me how, I am to discuss joy when I have precious family members swamped with grief?
I wish JOY were as easy to garner as plugging in the large, well-lit letters in an outdoor holiday display. And maybe, sometimes, it is; yet, as we all know, sometimes it isn’t. As I intentionally ponder about “joy,” I wonder if joy is more of a gift that we receive and less of a commodity we can wrestle into submission for our consumption. What if our possibility of finding joy is simply to create the conditions for joy to be received, and then, to keep our eyes open for its arrival? What if we persist in the activities we know are good for us … like healthy eating, exercising, getting a good night’s rest, connecting with family and friends, continuing in the spiritual practices that feed our souls, etc. and then, stay on the lookout for joy? What if we nudge our thoughts and attitudes toward appreciation and gratitude, and then, watch for joy?
I wonder if the concept of joy might be mirrored in one of the spiritual practices in which I engage. Often in the late Fall and Winter months, I set my alarm early enough that I am awake to observe the sunrise. Some morning, the hue in the eastern sky slowly brightens. The dark gives way to pale gray that progresses to a pale pinkish, orangish shade. The sky changes so slowly that it’s hard to notice until eventually the bright, vibrant colors fill the sky in anticipation of the sun popping up on the horizon. However, when the sky is thick with clouds, the darkness lingers and the minutes tick by without the same brightness or colors. It takes much longer for the daylight to appear. Yet, the sun is still rising, even when covered by clouds.
During this season of holiday celebrations and longer nights, how do you encounter joy? Maybe for you, joy fills your heart and your JOY is big enough and bright enough to be represented in the large, well-lit letters in an outdoor holiday display. Or maybe a better expression of your joy is small letters which hang from a ribbon in the branches of your Christmas tree amidst the array of ornaments showcasing years of memory making. Or maybe, your joy, like the sunrise on a cloudy morning, is hidden from view. In whatever way your joy may or may not show up, I pray your heart is nimble enough to hold whatever it needs to hold. Knowing that joy can be elusive at times, I wonder … how do we, whether in times of celebration or in times of longer nights, offer space for others as their joy ebbs and flows?
May all our wonderings and wanderings lead us home.
