Joy Anyway!

Perhaps too often, too deeply, I delve into my psyche. I rise out of it with a knowing, of what I do not know. Yet, one thing I know is there is something waiting for me to recognize it. It keeps me in a constant state of questioning.

My life is in flux. Understatement of the year. Many changes are coming. Not only whatever happens with the cancer, there is also my retirement. There is also the uncertainty of what I will be allowed to do with my diaconate calling since I will be beyond the canonical age limits. There is also the uncertainty of what I WANT to do with my diaconate calling. I know that I continue to feel called to Street Ministry, the JustFood truck. I hope that I can continue to do that. Who knows? God knows.

While I know that I cannot be totally idle or do nothing, I also know that I need to have nothing to do for a couple of weeks. I need to heal my psyche that is so drained by week after week of having to control my feelings at Pantry. I need my empathetic tendencies to have a little bit of time to rest.

I have barriers that I am able to throw up when needed. A few days ago, my barriers were obviously down. My body was tired, in recovery mode, really needing to sleep rather than be in the midst of people. With the chemotherapy, I spend far too many days away from the people and felt the need to be there. And I did need to be there for others. Yet my ability to pull up the barriers was not there. It hit me before I realized it.

I was overwhelmed with the pain, the suffering, the sorrow, the loss of those in the room. It was like a big wave that hit me and almost knocked me down. So much. Too much. Congregated in that small space. I felt it all.

Yet. In the midst of all that pain, I could feel the small rays of Joy that quietly, faintly, yet determinedly reaching out into the space from numerous sources. While it did not erase all that I was feeling, the fact that I could feel this even in my angst kept me upright and able to function if only in a limited way.

That joy, that determination that exists in people who have been tramped upon, who others have attempted to erase and eradicate, continues to live unbridled. It is life-giving. It is profound. Whether homeless or housed, poverty is often incapacitating. Yet, in many, especially the women, joy is there. Not just surviving but thriving. They know something others have not yet found. That joy breeds hope. Hope lives regardless. Always. And it is never bound by the limits of human imagination or ability.

Louie Crew Clay, Integrity founder and champion of LGBTQ inclusion in the Episcopal Church, saint, activist, lover of all souls, would always sign off his emails or messages with the signature, “Joy anyway!”. I finally fully understand that. Joy anyway. Regardless. No one can take away another’s joy.

I need that Joy of others. Even as I know it exists within me, I need to know it is there, to feel it, to be reminded of the Joy of others. That quiet resistance to repression, oppression, and injustice. That steadfastness that says I am here, and I will be here long after the oppressive regime of the time is only history, dead in the ground.

I am here. Regardless of the cancer, regardless of the struggles in the world or oppressive dictators, regardless of the overwhelming isms that run rampant through the hearts of those who do not know Joy, I and many others will continue to be here.

Joy Anyway! (Thank you, Louie.)