Joy does NOT come to me in the morning. Nothing and nobody smart comes to me in the morning. If you do show up, give me the coffee and shut up until I grunt at you that it’s okay to speak. Joy in the morning…who came up with this? Somebody who works third shift – that’s who.
Joy is a bright laughter-filled feeling. Joy feels like champagne or a Cherry Limeade looks. Joy is waking up and your bed is all warm and toasty, the cats are strewn about your feet, and you don’t need to get up. Joy is baklava and cheesecake and my Grandma’s homemade almond roca.
Joy bubbles and pops. It sparkles. It warms and lightens. But joy is elusive. It follows hope, sneaking and stealthy. Joy can’t be chased or captured. It can’t be purchased on Amazon.
You don’t find it in a drive-thru, even at Starbucks.
You have to make time for joy to creep in. You have to let it rise, like the sun or loaf of homemade bread. You have to keep your eyes open for it in hospitals, and traffic, and in busy stores. You have to let it take your hand and guide you to the stable. And eventually to the Lord's table.
Each week of advent (the weeks leading up to Christmas) we'll publish an advent reflection from Tannya Forcone. Tannya shares her reflection during the advent candle lighting on Sunday mornings at Harmony Springs. Tannya is a Anthropology student at the University of Akron, has conducted valuable research on food insecurity in our community, and she has served Harmony Springs as an Elder and worship leader (among many other things).