Today marks my 30th joy quest post and the end of my formal exploration of joy—for now. So what do I write? How do I choose my words for something that I still don't understand completely? I have questions still.
How can we feel joy when also overwhelmed with sorrow? And yet—it happens. How does joy make its presence known when there is so much fresh pain pushing down? And even still—it happens. How does joy heal our hearts when our hearts are continually being wounded anew? I don't have the perfect answer to this question either except that I have seen the hope joy brings in our human suffering, and it is a continual healer. Joy heals as we look for it, embrace it, and allow it to heal us.
We have to choose joy though. That is something I have learned and know about joy. It is everywhere, in everything we do; however, if we aren't choosing joy, we can't see it or feel it. When in the midst of adversity, it is critical that we reach out to hold onto the joy that is available. Even still, it is more critical that we recognize the joy we experience in times of peace. There is no worse waste of a gift than to take it for granted.
Being apathetic to the gift of joy that makes life so good sets us up to not be able to see how joy works for us when things get difficult. We need to keep watching for it and wanting it continually to truly appreciate the work of joy in our lives.
I found a talk that teaches how to appreciate and understand how joy works in our lives, and I hope you will watch it. As I listened to it, I knew it belonged in my joy quest because of the truths it bears witness of. One of my favorite quotes by Yoon Hwan Choi:
It is not easy for us to recognize the love of Heavenly Father when we look around with our temporal eyes, because we see inconvenience, loss, burdens, or loneliness first. On the other hand, we can see the blessings beyond when we look up.
This joy quest has been perfect in its imperfection. I have let loss and burdens keep me down a few times. But I have learned from it when that has happened. The hope and healing of the paper crane I began with has been ever present, and that is why I share it at the end of my quest too. Recognizing that I have seen how I push away joy, I want to do better. I have done better. I have loved the challenge of these past thirty days that has pushed me toward understanding joy better, to seek it out and be part of it more often.
I thank my friend Julie for being the catalyst for such an enlarging experience when I needed to be stretched and healed and fortified. Joy has become a true companion.