Permission to Let Joy Heal
Raquel Franco
If joy finds you in the panting
heat, katydids buzzing by
the porch light…let it hold you.
It’s ok to let your belly
get full on delight, to ache
from laughter instead of anxiety.
To be serenaded by crickets strumming
their violins. To let bonfire smoke worship
your hair. Let winking fireflies dogear
a summer night you want to remember.
It’s ok to find joy inside
a world that is thick with despair
a world that isn’t always easy to love.
***
My three-year-old woke up at 6:45 this morning, little feet pattering as fast as they could down the hall. I, on the other hand, was dragged from the depths of slumber, blindly fumbling to see what time it was, as I heard the swish of the fridge door and a triumphant, thrilled whisper of “special yogurt!” (i.e. the Mango and Cream yogurt cups from Trader Joes, if any of you need a little bit of happiness in a small container). It was all she needed to get her day off to the right start, no matter that the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet. I am a certified morning grouch and had to have a moment with myself – do we give in to being disgruntled or do we face the day with a little pep? Despite some resistance, I made my brain choose a little pep. Does it always go this way? No. Does it often help the morning if I step into it with a good attitude (or at least with a nod to it)? Yes. Yes it does. So this particular morning, I did. I put on my fuzzy slippers that I love, poured coffee into my favorite mug and smothered it in ungodly amounts of half and half, and took in my daughter’s bright little face and today’s choice of a ballerina skirt and safety goggles (we are here for style and practicality). And the quiet joy of it all was wholly present.
I see my toddler go about the world, and for her, joy is inherent. For her, she needs nothing more than seeing a bunny in the yard, or a person she loves, or a dress with long sleeves, or a bath, or a mango yogurt cup to light up with delight. For me, older and wizened, joy often feels more complicated.
***
My feed is a mix of Christmas cheer, gift ideas, home decor and babies from Gaza struggling to breathe through bloodied tubes and ash-filled lungs. I’m planning a cookie decorating evening for my family, thinking about the neighbors we’ll gift them to, about sharing them around the fire, sipping cups of tea, and about the mothers from Palestine, Sudan, Ukraine (the list feels endless), who won’t ever bake for their children again. I feel the daily joy of eating around the dinner table with my family, and the daily jab of sadness when I think about the dinner tables that are missing loved ones. The world often feels heavy with all that is the antithesis of joy – loss, violence, fear, despair, uncertainty. It threatens to suffocate the good, or at the very least dim it.
And still we light the candle of joy.
A candle for Gaudette Sunday, a marker of moving into a time of anticipation and celebration. The shepherd’s candle, a symbol of the joy the shepherds knew when they learned of the birth of Jesus. A rose colored candle, the same color as a sunrise or cherry blossoms.
On this third Sunday of Advent, we choose to strike the match and let the light of joy prevail.
Because I have come to think of joy as this – an action. Yes, a choice, but also something we embody, we invite, we share. We allow it to find us, take up space, linger, and fill us up. This is, I believe, as God intended it. Joy is not a reward or something we earn, but an integral part of being human – if we are created in the image of God, then we are created from all that is good. Joy is our birthright.
So let us choose it, let us act on it.
As an act of resistance*.
As an act of hope.
As an act of gratitude.
Against fear, against despair, joy is a staunch ally. When we choose it, we are saying boldly that there is much good to fight for and create. When we let it fill us up, we get to say thank you – to the community that surrounds us, nature that grounds us, God who sustains us. We live in the now and the not yet, waiting in anticipation for the kingdom and the redemption of the world; and in the reality of the moment, in a world that is sometimes not easy to love, and is endlessly full of beauty – in which we are called to be and experience light.
So do it – choose to light candles. Decorate a beautiful tree. Paint. Invite friends over for dinner. Write. Sleep in (or in my case, get up with the sun). Read a book that makes you feel something. Take a walk in the crisp air, watch a movie, get giddy over presents you are going to give. Send a thank you card. Make space for stories. Eat a mango yogurt cup.
Let joy find you this season, and when it does, let it stay for as long as it may.
Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord
Luke 2:10-11
*The phrase “Joy is an act of resistance” was originally written by Toi Derricotte in her poem “The Telly Cycle”.
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