Being called to joy in a less than joyous time.

Joy: the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying.

Throughout the first few months of this year, I have encountered this word countless times. I’ve read it, I’ve heard it, I’ve thought about it, and I’ve talked about it with others. It has come up in both intentional conversation, and in casual scrolls through social media alike. It has interwoven itself into so many instances, in fact, that I became unable to continue to simply acknowledge its coincidence. During this time of stillness, I became ready to understand. I became open to pondering its consistent and seemingly divine presence in this most peculiar time.

If I’m honest, I’ve been extremely frustrated, angry even, with this calling to think about joy at the present moment. What personally brings me the most joy is something that I am not currently able to do. How am I supposed to be joyous when I can’t be in my classroom? When I can’t be with my students? When I can’t have my normal? And I know I’m not alone in feeling this way.

I know what joy looks like, on my own terms.

And while that’s good to a certain extent, there also lies my problem. Joy that is built into how we spend our days, joy that comes without much searching, is a blessing. I feel joy in spending my days with my students, even on the hardest days. But, trying to actively seek joy in the midst of this chaos? In the absence of what makes my heart full? In not knowing what tomorrow will bring? That’s harder.

What this strange and uncertain time is teaching me, is that I have a choice every day. To choose joy or not. I can choose to find joy in the fact that my family is healthy. I can choose to find joy in the fact that technology exists where I can remain present in the lives of my students. I can choose to find joy in the stillness. Or I can choose frustration. Bitterness. Negativity.

Every day is a new opportunity to choose.

I say all of this not to suggest that we’re living in a season of unicorns and rainbows that we’ve all turned a blind eye to. This time is challenging, scary, and uncertain, and we’re allowed to feel those things, too. Processing these feelings and trying to see the good, is just that, a process. And believe me when I say I find myself wanting to lean into my anxious, negative feelings more often than the positive ones. But seeking it out in even the smallest of things is a step in the right direction. It’s worth taking the time to look for.

If you’re struggling in this season, know that you are not alone. I am praying for healing, strength, peace, reassurance, and joy. May we all support each other on this journey, even if it’s from afar, and trust that joy will find us when we take the time to look.