May 05 2008
What Is This Thing Called Joy
JOY is knowing that God loves me.
JOY is having a child hug me and say “I love you Grandma”.
JOY is just hearing the voice of one of my sons.
JOY is having friends that I know will always be there for me.
JOY is watching the sun rise up over the top of the mountain on a frosty morn.
JOY is burying your face in a cluster of flowers and feeling intoxicated by their fragrance.
JOY is walking through the woods and hearing the birds sing and watching the wildlife forage for food.
There are so many things that can bring us joy. Unfortunately too many people are in too much of a hurry to stop and appreciate the pure joy of just being alive.
My husband taught me so much about the world we live in and how to appreciate the little things we sometimes blunder into just by chance. I loved to walk through the woods with him. He always saw things I would have missed if he had not pointed them out to me; a tiny bat hanging from the tip of a tree limb blending into its surroundings so well it looked like a leaf, a minute track in very shallow water made by some sea creature living in a small shell, a fawn lying so still in the brush, a bird’s nest in the low hanging branches of a tree with three tiny eggs, a wiggly track across the path made by a passing snake.
I had always considered myself a nature lover but I never really knew what that meant until Richard. He refused to go to church with me but considered nature and all its wonders his church. Jesus said, “the real church is in the heart of the believer” and Richard worshiped God by revering this earth and all things created. Some times he carried it to the extreme, for instance, rather than kill bugs in the house, he would relocate them to outside. I was dumbfounded the first time I saw him pick up a cockroach and carry it to the back yard and turn it loose. He felt that if God created it, then it must have a purpose even if that purpose was the fact that it might be food for another of God’s creatures. Remembering Richard brings me a combination of joy and regret for what should have been.
I have my animals. There is definitely joy in them. Rowdy, the Quaker parrot, talks to me. He tells me that he loves me, mimics my laugh, my cough. He tells me that his cage buddy Cricky, a lovebird, is a “bad boy” but Rowdy is always a “good boy”. Spotty, a rare finch, sings the most beautiful song all day long. Poppy and Peasy, both lovebirds, sit on my shoulder as I feed them and give them fresh water. There are times I have a parrot on my head and three lovebirds on my shoulders. Wow, I feel like the tree of joy.
My two cats, Vanessa and Amanda, are good companions. Vanessa is a snuggle bunny and will lay in my lap for hours if I let her. Usually my leg goes to sleep before she will move. Amanda follows me around like a dog. She doesn’t like being held or snuggled but will sleep next to me with her head on my leg. She is an impish clown and makes laugh with her antics. More joy.
Mystic, my somewhat neurotic dog, I have discovered will protect me with her life. I have always considered her a sissy dog but the other day while the termite inspector was going through the house Mystic kept herself between him and me the whole time he was in the house. If he got too close, she moved toward him in a menacing manner. I was impressed.
Putting these things into words brings them into perspective. Maybe I have more joy in my life than I realize. It’s like listening to God; be still and know He is working constantly in my life to bring me joy. All I have to do recognize it for what it is.
Last 5 posts by
- A Different Kind of Loss - December 8th, 2009
- A Light in the Dark - February 14th, 2009
- Tribute To My Mom - December 21st, 2008
- Mom - November 20th, 2008
- More Memories on Life - June 20th, 2008
Sam, this is another beautiful piece. I wish I could have met Richard. This is really lovely. Thank you for posting it!