This joy I have

Problems tend not to be as problematic as the ways in which humans attempt to solve them. Indeed, the greatest and most overlooked problem often is the person with problems -- the way he thinks about and responds to what he perceives to be problematic people, places, things, or situations in his life.

Consequently, the "something new" we often feel we need is really new ways of thinking that can engender better ways of living, relating to others, and coping with challenges. It is possible, as saints of ol' would say, to have "joy in the midst of sorrow." However, the key to this kind of contentment is to renew one's own mind; for our lives are no more than what we make of ourselves, regardless of what others may or may not be doing and where we might live, work, or play.

None of this means we should always maintain the status quo. We are never wrong for removing ourselves from undesirable or unhealthy situations. Still, we should not beguile ourselves into believing that all we need to be happy is the "right" people, places, and things in our lives. True happiness comes from within; so, as long as our happiness is contingent solely on people and things outside ourselves, we will move through life on emotional roller coasters. In order to make our joy constant and complete, we must reclaim personal responsibility for it and full possession of it.

As an adolescent boy singing with the "mass choir" at a Black Baptist church, I used to bellow the lyrics "this joy I have, the world didn't give to me, and the world can't take it away!" Those lyrics stuck with me like brown on Pinto Beans. As I have matured, I have come to understand them to mean that I must choose for myself a sure and stable source of soul-satisfaction. All around me and about me is but swift transitions. I cannot derive diuturnal delight from that or those which emit ephemeral pleasures. If I am to have abiding joy that neither life, death, struggle, nor the sinister can steal, then it must spring from a fount that never runs dry. I choose, therefore, to rejoice in the Lord, because of the Lord, for the Lord, and even after the Lord. The joy of the Lord is my strength to keep smiling and savoring life despite my surroundings and even myself.

I have also discovered that it is easier to keep joy in my heart when I keep regret out my life. It is of paramount importance that I respond to people and situations in ways that make for peace and which bring me peace. The "good" feeling that comes from being a bad ass lasts about as long as it takes for me to be alone with my ass. There, in stridulous solitude, I cannot escape the scathing rebuke of my conscience: "You sunk rather than rose to the occasion and thereby heaped the searing coals of self-reproach on your head." Thus, I strive to always act and react in ways that will make me genuinely proud of myself rather than permit myopia, mean-spiritedness, and foolish pride to keep me mired in shame and self-loathing. It is essential that I stay true to myself and find rest in giving the best of myself.

There are lessons to be learned and strength to be gained from every sad and strenuous situation. Even death itself can yield memories and relationships to be cherished as well as matchless motivation to master the art of living life to the fullest. Sometimes even while "drinking tears for water," I must have the presence of mind to wrest from the throes of my woes whatever I can that makes life still worth living. Such is the path to finding joy in sorrow -- a stubborn determination to delight myself in the Lord, life, and love despite how dark and dreary some days may be.

Someone declared that there is one happiness in life, and that is to love and be loved. For me, this means that I stand far less a chance of losing my joy if I am a positive presence in the lives of others and allow others to be a positive presence in my life. In other words, the love that helps fulfill me and fill my life with joy unspeakable is not lust, but that attitude or affection that leads to actions which augment affected lives. It is living for the good of others and not just myself. It is liberating myself, not only to love and be loved, but to love in ways that are liberating. It is deriving joy from delivering joy and being a joy even to those who seem to bring me no joy.

The one who laughs last might not appreciate that the joke is on him. Yet, one way in which I can suffocate joy is by having such a serious and somber disposition that it is difficult or downright impossible for me to see the humor, not just in life, but in my own life as well. To laugh at everything betrays one's lunacy. A "good laugh," however, is good for my relationships and me. I have decided, therefore, to have loads of fun as I journey through life. I am not attempting to amuse (literally, "not-think") myself to death, but this joy I have requires that I get plenty of comedic relief.

This joy I have is not a groping giddiness that comes from puerile positive thinking or denial of difficulty, distress, and disappointment. It is a deep delectation that is determined first and foremost by my thinking, attitude, and decisions. It also depends on me allowing God to be greater in me than anyone or anything that is in my world. Finally, it depends on me not clinging to it like a child would a new toy, but spreading it to others in every way I can regardless of what they say or do. It is joy that comes not just in the morning, but that comes even in the midst of my mourning.

iAMrj * richard jones