As A Child

I have found a niche I am enjoying the scratching.

I am working with a little preschool choir at church. I did this in my former life, 25+ years ago. How funny to see how I have changed since that time.

As a mom of a 4 year old, I was very worried about the words of the songs, the way the children stood, how they behaved, if their robes were straight, etc. As a grandmother, I am enjoying the little girl on the front row, scratching where her petticoat rubs. The twin boys, fussing and struggling over who sings louder. The little one, catching her face on the sanctuary screens, making finger puppets. Mothers having real belly laughs as Junior waves at them from the steps.

If growing older means I am able to see with new eyes, bring it on. If it means getting the joy out of enjoy, sign me up. I am sure there are some in the audience that feel I am not an adequate or proper choir director. However, I feel there is One Person in the audience that is clapping His hands in glee right along with me.

Where is Joy?

There is a song from the musical "Oliver", titled "Where is Love". It is poignant and sweet and so very relevant to so many. I remember as a "wanting to be lovestruck" teenager, riding along in the family car, sitting in the back seat, looking out of the darkness and singing this song. Where was Mr. Right? When would I find him? What would he look like. Handsome, athletic, witty, considerate. All my hoped for qualities fashioned him in my mind. I found him and we have been married for 30+ years.

As I look at him now, those qualities are not quite so clear. Age and health have been a factor, but my love, though not quite so physical, is stronger than ever. The song I now sing is "Where is Joy?". I go through the day listening to the barrage of depressing banter. Talk radio, news shows, minute by minute stock reports. All this information at my fingertips and ear tips for that matter, whether I want it or not. We talk about the things taking a beating our lives - retirement plans, Medicare, healthcare, social security, the environment, - need I go on. That there is a truly abusive class that has evolved. Joy abuse. We have taken the joy of life and beat it, rationalized it, berated it. Labels such as Pollyanna, superficial, pie in the sky, not realistic are bandied about. But joy is not a superficial thing. Paul talks about it in the midst of the worst. Count it all joy when you go through various trials. Not your mealy-mouthed, panty-waist type of joy. Deep, abiding joy. I want some of that. I tried putting my head in the sand - that doesn't work. I tried to be cheerful - that didn't work. Someone or something seems like it has a mission to rob your joy. But if my joy was as deep as it should or could be, would it be rob-able? Would it be so ingrained in my very being that you could not separate it from the me in me? How much does that kind of joy cost? Give me a few 1000 shares of it, please!