Some days I am.
Some days I struggle to squeeze a drop of joy out of my limp heart.
I hate that. I don't even like the word hate. But I hate that.
I get so stuck in myself. So wound up in my suffocating ache.
Like spending the entire day trying to find your way out from under a down comforter.
I know it takes a simple choice. A move toward His hands. A whisper. But if I'm honest - sometimes I just don't want to. Sometimes I want to be pathetic for a moment. To have a good wallow.
It makes me cringe to say it. Like standing naked in room of perfection. That feeling of being the only one that's ugly.
And sometimes I miss the joy. Sometimes I am so lost in the darkness of my own heart that I cannot see the glow of the joy of them. The Grace in the very presence of them. Their Light.
Sometimes I lose the ability to desire them. To delight in them. And I find myself just getting by.
When I don't feel good. When there's so much that has to be done. When I am lonely. When I simply don't try.
I am right there with them and still cannot see them.
I choose not to see them. Because I am too busy looking at me instead of looking for Grace.
And I hate that.
It gets better each day. Doesn't last as long as it used to. But still I fight it. Still I battle.
Still I struggle to Surrender. To Delight.
"Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4
God is always there waiting to bathe me in joy. To wash away the grime and give me Joy to pour out over them.
He isn't going to give me everything I desire. He's going to give me the Desire for everything.
Everything Good, every suffering made Beautiful, everything He wants for me. For He is everything.
All I have to do is delight in Him. To soak in the joy of His presence.
I am so weak. So fragile. So unable to carry myself. So broken.
But I can let Him have it all. And rest simply in Him. I can cling. I can do that.
And then, in my delight of Him, there is dancing in the kitchen, arms full of baby. Four-year-old giggles spread across the floor in the sunlight. Seven-year-old arms intertwined with mine over pages of adventure.
Then there is joy.
I Delight and I Desire.
And I am Delighted. For I am Desired.
I am Loved.