If Words Could Describe It

It comes and goes in waves--that feeling of "eugh...can today just end already?"  In the midst of one of those silly little waves, last night, I was staring out of the dining room window.  It was a dark, depressing view, and it went perfect with the bitter brew of tea I was sipping on.  Bleak, I know.  As I thought about all of the less-than-glorious things going on, I saw a single flash through the glass.  A neon spark that cut through the night.  There and gone again.  As I glared through the window, searching out what the spark was, it lit up again, for only a moment.  Few things in this world can make nostalgia wash over you like a single firefly.  For the next little bit, I simply waited for the periodic flash of the little bug, and the wave kindly slipped away.  No matter how many times the firefly's spark went out, it was sure to come back again and shine like a tiny beacon.  As a little girl, I remember catching them and keeping them in my room at night, never forgetting to let them go again in the morning.  For any PETA lovers out there, don't worry.  I did not catch this one.  Instead, I smiled, knowing that if God could keep His eye on this tiny creature, then I was surely not exempt.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say REJOICE!

Philippians 4:4

That's a sweet little verse.  Paul has a way of stepping on your toes sometimes, but he seems to incorporate a perfect mix of toe-stomping and hope in these words.  "Rejoice in the Lord"...  Yeah, that makes sense.  All right, next lesson.  Did you notice, though, that Paul doesn't let the readers of this letter off the hook that easy?    "...always."  Don't you just sorta kinda think that maybe the original recipient of this letter sighed a little "yeah right" as soon as he read that word?  "always"  It's a hard pill to swallow, and Paul knew it.  Why else would he have felt the need to go back over the concept?  "Again, I will say rejoice!"  

Reader, I will readily assure you that I have questioned a great big HOW to this verse several times in my life.  I suppose this is where Girls' Camp paid off.  There was a cute little song that we sang one year, with a catchy little tune that has been stuck in my head for the past couple of hours (For a good book recommendation, I'll sing it for you sometime).  The chorus went:

Well, the fruit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self controoollll!!!  

Love joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-controlllll....

Sound familiar?  Galatians 5:22-23.  So all of these qualities are the fruit of the Spirit--the gift from God to His children, providing us with his constant presence and guidance.  That is how we rejoice.  

Happiness?  It's temporary.  Joy?  Now, that's here to stay.  The Holy Spirit doesn't flee from us in difficult times, and it is in this knowledge that we have confidence in the God of our salvation.  

I have stared out of that window for a great portion of today (productivity?  I think not).  I wasn't looking in to a dark abyss, but an absolutely beautiful Wednesday.  Don't get me wrong--I've felt those waves come and go today.  They are not waves of anger, or resentment, or rage, but waves of discomfort, like standing at a fork in the road and not knowing where to turn.  But as surely as the waves come, they pass, and in that hope, I find joy.  In the simplicity of a conversation with good friends, I find joy.  In the warmth of a good cup of coffee, I find joy.  In the unconditional love of a little sister, I find joy.  And it's with this endless flow of joy that all of us can rejoice.