The Joy Treadmill

Y'all, I'm going to tell you the truth.

I'm over choosing joy like I'm over 4:20 am alarms.

I don't want joy anymore.  I want to be right.  I want to demand justice.  I want to yell and cry.  I want my frustration and hurt to matter.  I want stability.

I think God put my joy treadmill on incline 10.0, and I'm ready to hop off.

The past 7 days have been a test of joy like no other I've encountered since I decided it was worthy of pursuit.

The disappointment has flowed from virtually ever arena of our life.

Today is a holiday in Panama, so our house search has been at a stall since Friday.  We made our choice, but now we're stuck in the limbo of lease negotiations.   Our move out date hasn't changed, though, so I feel the heat.  My joy muscle is reminding me that we were blessed with multiple incredible options that would work for us.  But that muscle is getting sore.

The job limbo is getting rockier.  And with it, my joy gets shakier.

I'm trying to maintain.  I'm trying to remember that there is always pain in the process.  Joy that is given wouldn't be appreciated.  Joy that is earned will last the test of time.

But, I want to have some place safe to curl.  I know I can curl up in the Father's love, but my little, human self wants something tangible.

So, I attempt to focus on the fun blessings of the same 7 days.  Coralynn's upcoming birthday party has gotten lots of positive RSVPs.  Chloe had a group of friends over and loved every moment. Camilla had her first for-real sleepover and enjoyed it.  Carson continues to be content in his place in the universe.

And, I do smile.  And my pride-driven-justice-demanding self quiets in the successes of joy.

But, I know that the work will continue.  The joy treadmill will always be waiting because the battle will always be present.

Because tired joy is better than nothing,


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