About Joy

I find myself amazed at how it's possible to experience two totally different and opposite emotions simultaneously. I wrote last night about the dull, bottled-up ache of grief and loss that I've been feeling all week. Yet, at the same time, there's this absolutely incredible sense of joy, too. The grief comes from the stuff of this world -- our mortality, the sadness of death, the loss of someone I love. But the joy... well, that comes straight from God.

I've known so many people who over-think their life, who analyze the universe to see if there is any proof of the divine, and who find themselves pulling together observations and ideas that support the assumptions they have already embraced (often without realizing it, and then they feel a smug superiority that they're not crippled by religious delusions). I have to wonder how they cope with an experience such as bidding goodbye to someone they've loved. For them, there's no sense of hope. There's no sense of celebration. All they're left with is memories.

But God invites us to come to him with the heart of a child. Getting to know him involves being broken of our pride and self-importance. It means being utterly humbled and embracing the truth of our own failures and limitations. We're called move our gaze beyond the bubble of our own little lives so that we can catch a glimpse of something far more wondrous and infinite. We bow in contrite submission, and are lifted up as new creatures, heirs to the riches of glory, endowed with new purpose and significance as the very children of God.

And we're given such indescribable joy! I know this sounds trite and patronizing, but it's true: if you haven't experienced an intimate, forgiven relationship with God, then you have no idea what you're missing. You can search and search for God to prove himself, but the most powerful proof really comes after you've let go of yourself and grabbed hold of him. It's like walking around in a dark room, and then someone flips on the lightswitch. You suddenly see things clearly. The world makes more sense. You can begin to trace the handiwork of God in your life's journey, and you see his fingerprints all over your circumstances. You realize that you're not alone... that you've never been alone. You find out just how much you are loved -- it's a love that goes infinitely beyond anything you ever dreamed possible. The presence of God and the joy of knowing him is a genuinely tangible thing.

So although I feel the grief of loss, I also feel this powerful joy and peace. The reality of God and his involvement in some of the smallest details of my mother's final journey is undeniable. And I am so very, very grateful for the hope that comes from knowing him! For us, tomorrow's memorial is not merely a reflection of the past, but it's a celebration of the future that awaits us all because mom is getting a head start at the utter, untainted, eternal joy that awaits all of us who have come to God with simple, humble, child-like faith.