More Joy...

Not long after my last post, a couple of really odd things happened.   First, a bird flew into my house through an open sliding glass door.   I love fresh air and sunshine so much that doors and windows are often open, and I don't own a curtain.    This isn't the first time a bird has made an unexpected appearance, either.   I've had the odd sparrow in to visit a couple of times, and one particularly memorable occasion we hosted a lovely hummingbird.   I remember well when he crashed violently into a wall, and fearing the worst, I gently gathered him up under a dish towel.   We took him out, and something about the wind or the trees excited him right there in my hands.   I felt the beating of his wings against my fingers for an instant,  and then he was airborne and out of sight.

It doesn't matter how often a wild flying thing enters my home, it's always an occasion for wonder and laughter.   This time I spotted the nondescript brownish-gray bird sitting on my lamp right in the livingroom.   As soon as I moved closer, he took off for the kitchen, and I had to laugh when he landed on the microwave.   It's just an odd, but (may I suggest) joyful thing to see.   We soon shooed the fellow on his way, but there were smiles all around.  Joy.   Simple.  Pure.  Unexpected.

A couple of hours later, I received an unexpected call from an unexpected location.   A young man we know, 20 years old, is serving in the Marines in Iraq.   I'm not happy that he's there, that evil and danger exist in the world, but I am very proud of him and his abilities to confront it.   He had a strict but loving Christian upbringing, and I have always had every confidence that he would do well anywhere he went.   His picture is in my wallet and on my fridge.  So there we were, he on his side of the world and me on mine, sharing news.   But more importantly, we connected in a way only God can arrange.   You see, he lost a buddy to a grenade on Dec. 21.   "We're not all coming home," he said, and I could hear the tears he was holding back.  We talked for awhile about that, and then he asked about me and my family.  Once he heard about my mom's cancer diagnosis, I could hear the concern in his voice.  "Concern" doesn't really describe it ...  maybe "purpose" or dare I say "enthusiasm."   Not enthusiasm for the disease, but enthusiasm for the prayer work ahead.  It was something meaningful to occupy the hours while he's standing guard or filling out paperwork on the night shift.  So there we were -- he in the middle of his night, me in the middle of my day, he on his side of the planet and me on mine, and we were so close that we touched.  Not in a physical, worldly way, but in a heavenly way.  I know that his prayers will find me, and mine will find him.  And when I hung up the phone, do you know what I felt?   Joy. 

Joy!

This is something I've been pondering for a long time.   There are those lovely moments in life that are so delightful that you can't help but smile.   They almost always occur when I least expect it.   I remember the day my elderly neighbor grinned and told me his secret:  "Daisy and I got married in Laughlin last week."    Daisy was a sweet old lady who lived a couple doors down.    It was the kind of joy that makes me laugh even now when I think about it.   The look on his face, the comedy of two old people enjoying a new romance -- it was joy!   It's no wonder C.S. Lewis entitled one of his books "Surprised by Joy."   Yes, there is more to the story, but you'll have to read that one for yourself.  

Have you ever tried to find joy when you're down?  Here we are in a tough economy with many folks struggling.   Many of our friends and family are in the midst of health crises.   How do I find joy in all this?    I try  to recapture that flighty feeling and I just can't seem to recreate it.   It's like chasing a squirrel -- the harder I chase it the faster it runs away from me.    What did James mean when he said "Consider it all joy.... when you encounter trials of many kinds?"

I read somewhere recently that you cannot find joy by searching for joy.   You can only find joy by seeking God.    I like that.   It means that wherever I find God, I can also find joy.   I can see God at work in my mom's life, even though she has kidney cancer.   Her pastor is doing a sermon series on the topic "What would you do if you only had one month to live."    Amazing.   My brother took her to lunch, and the owner of her favorite restaurant got a run-down on all the things she's not allowed to eat due to her diabetes and other health concerns.    So when my mom comes in, and the owner shakes her finger and says, "No sugar, no flour tortillas for my best customer!" with a big grin on her face, it is hilarious, and we're all laughing.   Joy!   

It's the combination of knowing deeply that God is in the middle of the crisis with us, and the surprise of the little details that only love can provide.