I chose to write about joy because it seems to be sorely lacking these days. Everywhere I look it seems as if the joy has left so many people. Lost jobs, lost lives, lost hope. How do we find our joy? Where has it gone and have you seen mine?

It seems as if we spend an incredible amount of time pretending that life is just ok. That being just ok is “ok”. We are sadly convinced that mediocrity is an acceptable level to achieve. That it’s possibly the best we’ll ever see. I think that is incredibly sad.

The connection between this theory of mine and grief is a very close one. In fact, so close that at times it seems as if the stage I’m at now, may be the best it will ever get. Then I think to myself “God didn’t leave me here without my girl, my mother and my grandmother to live a mediocre life”. Surely there has to be something better out there for me. A reason to look up and say “thank you God for blessing me in the midst of my grief.”

Some days that ability to look up is hard. There are days when it is easier to look down. Because people often put you there, not because they want you there. I don’t believe this is on purpose, but it’s all some people know. The lack of support or empathy creates a sense of self-doubt in the griever. That sense of self-doubt keeps you from moving forward.

Self-doubt keeps  you from seeing the joy. The joy that comes when God puts people in your life that  you would have never expected to come into your life. People who don’t even know you that well, go so far to care for you and extend their joy so that you can feel better. It continues to surprise me that the majority of my true support comes from the kindness of strangers.

People who want to hear my daughter’s story. People who want to know about her. That aren’t tired of hearing her story. My story. It makes me see joy again. A feeling I haven’t been so sure I’d ever feel again. I remain thankful to God for his continuous blessings as he brings people in and out of my life that leave a mark of love and joy on my very broken heart.

It’s important because the mending of my heart has begun because of the care and concern of strangers who care for someone they’ve never met nor may never meet.

Until next time

m