Death by Minivan. Heather Anderson Renshaw
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And I can choose to believe and live in that reality … or not.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with happiness—nothing at all! In fact, Jesus talks of happiness when he gives his Sermon on the Mount, specifically the passages about the beatitudes. But happiness on earth is a passing glimpse, a mere hint at the joy that’s omnipresent in the kingdom of God.
Ultimately, we can rest in the knowledge that true joy comes from our relationship with a God who loves us beyond our wildest imaginings—that he died and rose so that we can be with him forever in heaven, where everything will be even more amazing than unicorns, rainbows, and lollipops. Our ultimate desire isn’t for joy—it’s for God.
Have you ever wondered how it was possible for so many early Christian martyrs to be unafraid—joyful, even—as they were led to their executions? Because they knew that this earth was not their home. Their real home was with God in heaven, and they were going there soon to be with him forever, so they sang psalms and hymns before the ax struck or the fire burned or the lions pounced.
Not too long ago, our family was afflicted with not one, but two separate flu strains. One kid went down, then the next, and the next. The first kid would begin to recover, only to be knocked back down by the strain that had struck a different kid. And to top it off, a sizable army of invincible ants descended upon our house at the same time. It was a nightmare of near plagues-in-Egypt proportions. Eventually, I was afflicted with a wretched, mutant version of the kids’ illnesses and found myself completely down for the count. There was painful coughing, stuffiness, nausea, dizziness, headache, persistent fever, and mucus. So much mucus!
Maybe it was the fever, but after the second day of feeling completely useless, I made a decision: I was going to try to squeeze some joy out of this horrid situation even though it was the last thing I felt like doing. I remembered the words of Job 1:21 and made them my own: “The LORD gave me health, and the LORD has taken my health away—blessed be the Name of the LORD.” With my scratchy, stuffy, weakened voice, I sang a praise and worship song that brought a smile to my face. Yes, I felt like death warmed over, and, yes, it wasn’t my best smile ever, but I did smile. Because it all reminded me of the truth: God was still good. He was still in control of the world and my life. He still wanted me to be with him forever in heaven, just maybe not quite yet. And there was nothing the circumstances of my flu-ravaged body could do to change that unchangeable, immeasurably joy-filled truth.
If the joy of the Lord is your strength, don’t forget to tell your face
In my many years as a liturgical musician and, more recently, speaking around the country, I’ve had the tremendous privilege of sharing with God’s beloved children, many of whom sit quietly in the pews sporting their very best sour-pickle face. Now, these poor folks look like someone just canceled their birthday. And that’s just wrong. None other than Saint Francis of Assisi said, “It is not fitting, when one is in God’s service, to have a gloomy face or a chilling look.” And we are all, as Pope Francis explains in The Joy of the Gospel, in God’s service by virtue of our baptism.
Observing these sad faces makes me wonder: if God is who he says he is, and did for us what Scripture tells us he did—namely, loving us so lavishly that he sent his own Son to die a wretched death for the sole purpose of opening the gates of heaven so we can be with him forever (see Jn 3:16)— why aren’t we in a constant state of rejoicing? And when did our faces forget to manifest the joy, joy, joy, joy that is, according to the children’s song, down in our hearts? Why in the world would anyone, our children included, freely choose to walk with Christ if they don’t see glimmers of joy in our lives? Saint Teresa of Calcutta said, “Joy is a net of love by which you can catch souls.” Don’t we want our children to be included in that net of joy and love, eventually caught up to heaven? How about our neighbor? How about ourselves?
I hope you answered “yes,” and I hope you’re smiling about it. If not, let’s take a minute to consider practical ways to cultivate joy in your life and put that sour-pickle face to rest for good.
Choosing joy is possible
This just in: choosing joy can be tough! Often, the good, beautiful, and joyful things about motherhood get buried under the crushing weight of an avalanche of responsibility and challenges we weren’t quite prepared to face.
It’s easy to “choose joy” when all is right with the world. But when kids are screaming at the top of their lungs, and I’m on deadline and forget to eat and morph into “Hangry Mommy” and yell at the kids because we’re running late for the fourth appointment of the day, it’s super tough to just decide to be joyful. Real tough. Throw in something major like chronic depression, illness, unemployment, anxiety, special needs, the unexpected passing of a loved one, or any other number of roadblocks, and choosing joy seems downright impossible. For more about this, please see the Roadblocks toward the end of this chapter.
Thanks be to God, all things are possible for him (see Mt 19:26). Most times, even in the midst of great adversity, we can choose to rejoice in the Lord always (see Phil 4:4), with the powerful help of the Holy Spirit.
Sometimes choosing joy looks like taking time for a pit stop so we can reset. You know—doing something to regain a godly perspective on life. Take several deep breaths. Say a prayer. Maybe take a walk around the block or jog a mile or two. Chat with a trusted friend. Go to Mass. Or confession. Or adoration. Or all three. Read Saint Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, the book that my friend’s pastor calls “The Epistle of Joy.” Do something that nurtures your spirit and reminds you that God loves you even if the sink is (still) full of dishes and the floors (still) need mopping.
Ask yourself: what brings me real joy? You know that jaunty song Fraulein Maria sings in the movie The Sound of Music during the thunderstorm, right? What are a few of your favorite things? I can think of my list, and I’m sure, given a minute or two, you could come up with your own as well.
What are the good, true, and beautiful things you enjoy about being a mom? Do you like going places and experiencing things with your kids? Do more of that! How about singing songs with them or having impromptu dance parties in the kitchen? Put that on the agenda for today if you can. Maybe you like cooking with them, or crafting, or hanging out at the park, or reading aloud, or visiting friends. Do more of the things that fill you with joy and fewer of the things that steal it away. At the very least, once your precious ones succumb to slumber, you can find some joy in knowing that y’all made it to nap/rest/bed and … bonus … you’re still alive.
When all else fails, we can choose to act as if. We can smile as if we remember how much God loves us and how blessed we really are, even when we aren’t feeling it. My mom used to call it “fake it till you make it.” And while I can’t point to the Scripture verse where Jesus says, “Amen, amen I say to you: pretend you are joyful and joy will be yours,” what if making an act of the will to smile, even when we don’t feel like it, is an outward sign of an inward grace? What if, with that choice, we invite the Holy Spirit to work in our hearts, watering the seed we’ve planted and allowing the fruit of joy to grow?
Roadblocks to cultivating joy
Sometimes we can block our own ability to live in the reality of God’s joy. Here are some common culprits:
Negativity: Nobody likes a nattering nabob of negativism. Constantly whining and complaining can render joy (ours and others’) dead on arrival. The Letter of James, which talks a lot about the power of our speech, is quite explicit: “Do not grumble” (5:9). Instead, we can strive to follow Saint Paul’s advice to the Philippians: “Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (4:8). You’ve heard the saying, “Garbage in, garbage out,” right? If we find ourselves fighting off Eeyore-like gloom, it might be time to edit what we’re allowing into our lives. Practically speaking, this could