Joy

Dear Joy,

I have a good friend who has an illness that has taken away some of her vibrant public work, her physical mobility and independence. These days, she mostly lives from her bed. Yesterday, on Christmas day, her two children and their father left mid afternoon for a family gathering. Once her household had emptied, she and I arranged a facetime.

Her kids moved her bed into the living room beside the Christmas tree. The right half of my screen glowed with lights as we spoke. 

At the end of the conversation, when I asked her how she would spend the rest of her evening, she turned to the window and said, “I have such a good view. These trees, inside and out, have become my constant company. I am slowly learning to stop running after some kind of health that I spend all my time hoping will come. Rather, I want to learn how to stay present with the possibilities right in front of me. My joy lives here.”

Joy, I think I know you. 

In one moment, I’m sure you only happen when I am outside of time and place. In the next, I’m pretty convinced you show up when I have well guarded alone time and exquisitely cared-for space. 

I think rest will be helpful. A flexible mind is essential. Health, a given.

Photo provided by Darlene Siemens.

Then I spent last evening with my good friend and my list of requirements seemed a bit flippant and needy. 

I pause, and write out, be “present to the possibilities that are right in front of me.”

I reflect on Winter Solstice, when Prairie Wind, my faith community, gathered at Tim and Janet Kroeker’s place on Roseau River. When I think back to that evening, oh my, you did burst out of the “possibilities that were right in front of me.” 

You burst out of that crack between my deep knowing (I’ve been friends with Tim and Janet for over 20 years) and the surprise: Tim, the conserver of all things needing conservation, built a massive fire tower. 

While watching the fire grow, Quinn, my one year old granddaughter, proclaimed, again and again, and again, “Wow! Wow! Wow!” And I heard:  Rejoice. Rejoice. Rejoice.

And I thought, Joy, we notice your presence within when we are present.

For the joy-filled gift that you are. 

Love, 

Bonnie