my gift of joy

I looked up into the sky, into the clouds floating by on their way to Kansas where they might get together and form a storm.  Here above me they were harmless and beautiful.  I marveled at this creation.  I was envious of the people in Kansas who would benefit from the display of power they would witness in the storm.

My joy was all-encompassing.  I wanted to display it in lifting my arms and swirling round and round.

But I understood.  My joy was not the result of the clouds; or the storm they would create.  My appreciation of the clouds was the result of my joy.

My joy can only be understood by someone who personally knows the source; the same as my sadness when my Mom died; only someone who had lost their mother could feel that grief.

I did not create this joy inside me.  I am only the bearer.  It is a gift I am privileged to carry around on the inside of my body and enjoy whenever I chose.  I can halt stress, or worry, or depression; or any other negative emotion.  It is very simple, really.  Because this joy is sitting inside me at all times, all it requires is that I look at it, think of it, acknowledge its existence; and it rises.  The more I acknowledge it, the higher it rises.  There are times that I become so wrapped up in this experience, and it rises so high, that I begin to feel overwhelmed.  This has happened many, many times.  These are the moments I want to whirl and dance as the joy explodes within me making even my skin and body feel they may virtually explode.  I have found those moments actually hard to cope with the exuberance in searching for a way to express it.  I eventually have to look away from it and look again at the mundane for a moment.

I understand drugs, alcohol, sexual and every other kind of search for this.  Something within us knows this kind of joy exists.  We know it’s there.  We gain tiny, fleeting glimpses of it and grasp to re-create it over and over.  Eventually our grasping anesthetizes our knowledge that we still haven’t captured it.  That’s when we begin to mistake the anesthetic for the joy we seek.

 I see those who run those vicious circles.  I used to run those circles and I recognize it very well.  I see that deadpan stare of being stoned and I remember the fuzziness inside that stare that made me see everything in such pretty colors and hear the enhanced sounds of music.  I see the whirly, swirly alcoholic din and I remember the clamor inside my head that made me feel a rush of exhilaration.  I see the sexy displays of skin and suggestive flirts and I remember the flush of power, of neutrons exploding in my head, and the “love”.

And I’m so sad for a moment.  Because I remember.  And now I know.

I wish desperately I could capture even a tiny piece of this gift inside me.  I would wrap it up in a beautiful little box and present it with a huge bow as the very best gift ever received in the whole of life.  This would be the gift of all gifts.  The one.  It would bring the bearer happiness for the rest of their life.  It would give them the power to resolve all problems that can’t be fixed.  It would fill them with the kind of love they’ve never received from anyone.  It would be the truest, safest sanity they’ve ever known.  And of course, the result would be this joy to carry around all the time and pull out whenever they wanted.

I want to give this gift to everyone.

I want to give it to you; today.

Say “yes” and believe. 

It is Jesus and He is alive!