Joy Pockets

In the middle of it all.  There are these pockets of joy.  Little bubbles that hold the sponges of joy that will fill up and grow when nurtured.  It's not easy.  It takes commitment.  Commitment to joy.  True joy.  Not just a facade.  But to that place deep in the heart where hope dwells.  Because where hope remains....joy thrives.  I have many painful things going on in this happiest season of the year.  But I have Jesus.  Yes, trite, but true: the reason for the season. And though I am hurting.  Wounded.  Though I gave my heart and found that the man I gave it to found me...wanting...found me....less than enough...though he was selfish and unkind...though he used me and did it all with a smile and lots of charm in the friend and church world....though all of that is true.  There is joy in that I am not destroyed.  Knocked down.  Knocked back.  But getting up.  Getting stronger.  And finding actual joy. Not the fake stuff.  Not pretending all is well.  Actual pockets of joy.  Surrounded by peace.  Not peace based on how he acts or doesn't act...but based on the fact that I am carried and loved.  completely.  How I am where I am.  By God.  And, even by my kids.  Even when I have been bitchy.  No two ways about it.  I was.  And...by my friends.  Now, I don't have many to call family, but my joy comes in those moments when I think that I have built relationships.  Some will last.  Others won't.  But they have been built.  And they are real.  Not fake.  Not based on making me into someone else.
Joy pockets.  Kind of like when I find a five dollar bill in my jeans unexpectedly.  It's a wow and thankful moment....I feel the same way when I come upon the joy pockets.  Makes me look for more.
blessings.