Easter was joyful, a happy day truly! Belief in the Resurrection can work that kind of magic.
Even all these on and off weeks of rain has been joyful. Lately, though, I’ve been searching for that deep down satisfying joy that first brings a smile then makes you laugh. Out loud.
Otherwise, not much laughter going on anywhere that I’ve seen. And that’s just wrong.
Spring is when you feel the pleasure of having made it through the winter without the electric grid freezing up.
Joy is seeing the daffodils pop out in February, though it’s much too early to appreciate those sunny heads. But they made it!
Children laughing in the park and hunting fake marshmallow Easter eggs is a joyful pleasure, seeing those happy faces and shrieking little voices when the dog runs off with the treat.
It’s not exactly joy, but reading the comic pages in the newspaper usually bring two or three chuckles of recognition at the human condition, and sometimes a rueful discovery that the
cartoonist captured me/you/someone perfectly. Like the single pane “Pluggers”, for instance. Who hasn’t seen themselves there?
Even better are the political editorial cartoonists. Their depictions are so accurate, a few of them should run for office for revealing the awful truths that happen behind the scenes. Like Garry Trudeau’s “Doonesbury”, which a local metroplex paper booted from the Sunday pages because he wasn’t being “fair” to the GOP. His strips were so “unfair” that the right wing protests got him dropped.
Ouch! Sometimes the truth does hurt, even if it makes you laugh occasionally. But that’s not joy.
Hearing a musical rendition of your favorite band, singer or orchestra hit the high notes, now that can be joyful!
Like reading a particularly beautiful passage in the Bible, a book of poetry or lyrics to a song. Those can be joyful.
As can be, for me, watching a horse race down to the finish line. Makes me breathless, even if I hadn’t wagered a dime on the results. A football, basketball or soccer game could do the same thing for others.
I guess being joyful is something that reaches down and tickles the core of your being, before you realized it. And it made you so glad to be aware of its presence that you wanted it to come back and live with you forever.
Joy can also be discovering who you are is exactly what who you’re with needs. You’re a perfect match. Like the dog who picked you out of lookers at the pound and said “that’s mine. Now take me home.”
Yeah, joy is a warm tongue splashed across your cheek, or a deep purrrr in your lap.
You can’t buy joy. It’s not for sale, but we all would pay anything to get some more. If only we could find it or recognize it when it appears.
It won’t be long until school is out; summer is approaching. I’ve started thinking a road trip to anywhere might put me back in a joyful frame of mind. The best time to drive anywhere is after tornado season is over and before hurricane season starts.
But first, this weekend is time to bring joy to your community. If you haven’t already, get yourself out and vote on May 3. Please think seriously about better funding our independent school districts.
Children are the future, and if they can’t read, write and do math better than the failing grades they’ve earned from the state, then Lord help us!
There aren’t enough private schools in Texas to teach them.
Remember that next year when your local representatives come asking for your vote.
Shelly has worn more hats in the communications field than Carter has pills but forgot to retire when she closed her promotions business. She earned a BA in Journalism at NTSU (before it became UNT) and has never lost her love of words.