Have you ever worn a jacket that doesn’t quite fit? Maybe the sleeves are too short, the shoulders too tight or the length just not right? I have. And I tell you, I turn into a fidgety mess. Pulling and tugging hoping that it will feel right if I adjust it enough.
Joy is like that for me.
It fits, but not quite right. It’s awkward, uncomfortable. But it looks good. When I go out I like to wear it. It makes others more at ease. But when given the chance I slip off Joy and hang it back in the closet. Then I slip into something a little more comfortable.
I wish this wasn’t so. I wish slipping into Joy was like slipping into my favorite pair of jeans.
I’ve tried to excuse it away. I’m a deep thinker, a ponderer, a reflector, a lover of stories and thus pain and sorrow are natural friends. I hold them close. Snuggle in them like a warm soft sweater on a crisp fall day.
But then I read of Jesus. Of Joy in suffering. Of Joy in pain. And I wonder… where can I buy this Joy?
Maybe it’s like a new pair of shoes. Maybe I just need to break it in. Wear it for a while. Maybe, then it will feel less foreign, more like me.
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