A Curious Case of Joy and Mourning

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I know that my blog is called “The Joy Detective.” That may seem to call for a certain set of expectations.  That said, would you believe that sometimes the greatest joy can be birthed in the greatest sadness? Many people experience deep joy at the other side of deep pain. It doesn’t necessarily have to be that way, but sometimes it is.

Lately, I have gone through a bit of a season of mourning. It has been much needed. There have been a lot of things I needed a good cry about:

I needed to cry when I had to say goodbye to friends I discovered did not have the best intentions towards me. That was a bummer. But you can’t make anyone love you . . . so, goodbye and bless you! (Wow, that hurt!)

I cried after I watched people I know fall to pieces on Facebook attacking each over political nonsense. It’s so stupid, and people are being played against each other like puppets. (Angry cry.)

I cried after someone I looked up to as a mentor posted hurtful, stereotyping things on social media about people who look like me.  (Bit of a sucker-punch!)

I cried after I went through a break-up. (A lot of people can understand that one!)

I have cried after watching young kids frequently go about pretending to be someone who they are not in order to gain acceptance. (I get quite mad about anything that goes after kids . . .)

I cried realizing that I was afraid to learn how to love again. That one came as a bit of a shock, but there you have it! (I didn’t expect to ever be there!)

The good news is: in all these places I have cried, I have been able to meet with my best friend, Jesus. We have had some good chats right in the middle of all this craziness. He’s good at giving hugs and talking things through and just being there with me. Knowing that, makes me happy deep inside. The pain’s right there, but I am not too keen to avoid it because Jesus is right there, too!

And something very curious is happening to the pain . . . it’s starting bit by bit to look like a pearl.

 

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Rewrite: Tragedy to Comedy

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From where I stand, a tragedy is an unfinished story.

No matter how long, no matter how many pages . . . if the happy ending has not been reached, it is an unfinished story. It requires editing. Rewriting.

I realize how offensive this may sound to those thoroughly addicted to a miserable life validated by their favorite literary pessimists. But, lest you forget . . . a pearl is made through an offense embraced by its hosting oyster. And so, I wish you many, many pearls in the days to come!

To end a story prematurely is much like ending life in the womb, killing a caterpillar in its cocoon, or interrupting Easter mid-tomb. It simply ought not be done. It’s a disgrace!

On the other hand, pain is given so much more worth and value when one does not seek to cut it off early. Don’t be so ridiculous as to off yourself in the midst of the doctor resetting your broken bone; I do assure you: there’s good to come! Some things—after being broken—actually grow back stronger.