Butterfly Chronicles Volume 44: Operation Choose Joy

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.

Charlie Clough, author of Bible Framework and one of the most influential Bible teachers I’ve ever had the privilege of listening to, said it is important to go over and over the Bible stories – the histories of Joseph, Moses, Esther, Ruth, Noah, etc.  Why?  Well, when life hits you with a 5 ton bag of crushed granite, you better have something easy to hold onto – and those simple, true Bible stories show the overwhelming, consistent, and grace focused plan of the Almighty God and serve as an impenetrable defense against whatever this life can heave your way.  I guess the message from Charlie - to KISS (keep it simple stupid) plays out in front of my current window on the world – keep it simple, remember Who God is and what He’s done and how faithful and true and real He is.  Simple.

KISS.  Choose joy.  It sounds so simple.  Just focus on being joyful – clench joy by the teeth, wrap arms, legs, whole body around it and hang on tight.  Exactly.  That’s exactly what I need to do, but let me say flexing that “joy” muscle against the ravages of grief is hard.  But…I’m commencing OPERATION CHOOSE JOY, and if it kills me, I’m gonna hang on to joy as tight as I can, dragging behind it from a rope that slams me knees, elbows, chin, over and over to the ground until I’m just bloody with joy.  Scattered, scarred, and scabbed, I’m hanging on tight to joy.

Enter Chuck E. Cheese.  Chuck spoke and sang and even scared some of the birthday partiers, but our nephew Connor, celebrating his 4^th was at his best and most charming.  Determined to hold on tightly to birthday party joy, I wrestled with memories of another blonde boy riding rides, and pumping games with tokens, and watching game tickets munched by the counting machine.  Wow.  The joy muscle weakened as Zach sad came crashing against the rocking boat of new birthday memories.  I hung on tight to that rope of joy as it dragged me raw skinned across the pebbled ground of new and old memories colliding.  Aching muscles, grip slackens, the joy rope slides through fingers; I hold on; I am tired.

What do I want now?  What do I want now that I am in a place in life I never ever could have imagined?  Joy.  I want joy to be a thread through even the heartache and loss and pain and confusion and pounding Chinese water torture dripping grief.  I want people to see me wearing joy even in the midst of a broken heart.  My favorite show is What Not To Wear – and Michael told me NOT to wear grief and to put on some joy.  He’s a smart man.

Pretend it is better – nope, I won’t do that.  But I’ll slather joy juice on the wounds and soothe them with the gift a grace-FULL God pours on us every day.  And I’ll find a way to mix joy with sadness and keep on living and growing new joy and new memories and walk through the life I have left holding hands with Michael.

I’ll make Connor a birthday breakfast of homemade pancakes and live in the moment of sticky hands and syrup drip drops on the table.  I’ll swim among the Maddie and Kyler sharks diving and leaping and thrusting floats and floaters overboard while bubbles and water walls sweep over my head.  I’ll enjoy the temporary goggle tattoos lining my eyes as I retrieve Connor’s torpedoes, and I’ll hand slam the water each time he throws another grenade my way, and I’ll laugh watching him laugh.  I’ll spy Taylor and Jordan across a lazy river and feel warmed by their smiles at each other.  I’ll hold Michael’s hand.

I’ll smile.  I’ll hug.  I’ll pray – God, why?  But then I’ll just sigh and know I’ll never know, and bloodied and bruised, I’ll hang on tightly to that joy rope, flexing my joy muscle. Someday, maybe the joy rope ride won’t take me down such bumpy trails.  Someday, maybe the holding on tightly to joy will strong those joy muscles right up so they will last longer and joy will weigh more than Zach sadness.  Hard heart break days, tears, and sad will come, but I want to mix in some joy to my life's wardrobe.

So, commence OPERATION CHOOSE JOY, count the every single day butterflies, and let the games begin.  In God, I know I’ve already won.