Though I want joy—unceasing,
I experience only moments of it
Much between is grit-my-teeth “showing up.”
None of it is horrible;
I can always make the comparison—
To parents of children with cancer
To those suffering persecution or
being abused
To orphans, single moms, trafficking victims,
Others who have lost loved ones…
The juxtaposition brings guilt,
Which coils in my gut,
A python heavy, growing heavier.
Ach, guilt is no answer.
Joy requires realization,
That though life is often cruel because of heartbreak,
It more often is simply hard because of paradox:
who we are is not who we want to be,
the grand beauty we dream of
is not actualized in the day–to-day—
and the movie screen is an insufficient substitute.
If we settle, give up the longing, and live half-lives,
No joy.
But when we plumb beyond the temporal shallows,
Shoving past the “too weak” desires
To the eternal depths beneath,
We discover Joy has a Name,
A Face, a Person—
Whom we are invited to Know.
Inspired in part by C.S. Lewis’ opening words in “The Weight of Glory”:
If we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased. (26)
Jen Underwood 