This Thing Called Joy

This morning was different down the lane. It started out routine, Eli needing a walk, I needing some exercise. I always pray as I walk. I don't know, something about the lane does that to me. More than not I cry. Sometimes the things I pray about overwhelm me with sadness. Someone sick. Someone discouraged. A situation. A death. When someone says "pray for me", it is most often because they need help. You almost never hear, "will you pray for me, my life is fantastic right now!" There seems to be so much pain all around. It casts a shadow on life. So even as I am thanking and asking Him for the good, my spirit still hurts for the sad. I know that this is normal. I just want the joy to outweigh the sadness. It seems funny that I have to remind myself of the joy yet I need no reminder of the sadness.    When I pray, I always thank Him first, admittedly not really feeling much joy, knowing that the sad prayers will follow. And the crying. I am not proud if this, I am just being honest:) 
This morning was different. As I thanked Him, I began to feel something. Not the usual sadness, but something different. How do I describe it?   An awareness. A knowledge. A bubbling up of something inside of me. Joy. I remember that feeling. I felt it all the time when I was a child. It was the feeling of being safe, the feeling of trusting that my father would make sure that everything was alright. I remember feeling sad at times but the joy was always there. I lost that somewhere along this journey called life. I didn't realize how much I have missed it.   
My steps got quicker. I felt a strength that I rarely feel. I started the sad prayers. I had much to pray about this morning. A family who just buried their mom yesterday. Another family already going through the unimaginable pain of Alzheimer's disease who had yet another tragic event happen during the night. A friend in a bad situation. Sadness. Usually by now I would be a blubbering, sad, helpless-feeling mess. Now don't misunderstand me, there is nothing wrong with crying and feeling sad. There is absolutely a place for it. But there is something wrong when that sadness turns into helplessness. I felt the sadness. But, on this day, I also felt the joy. I wasn't crying. I felt strong. I prayed with an awareness. I began to realize that when we pray, we should pray with the knowledge that He is listening. We should pray with authority and a boldness that shows we trust HIm. Even when it seems like things are falling apart all around us and we feel that He is not listening to us, He's got this. That's hard. But we have a choice to wallow in helplessness or rest in knowing that whatever happens, it is going to be alright. As a child I believed this. And I had joy. Pure and simple joy.
I want to get back to that. I don't want to have to remind myself of the joy, I want it to  never leave. Sadness? It will always be with me. So overwhelming at times that I am aware that joy may not be felt for a season. But I am learning a secret. It's the knowledge that if I trust with abandon and never look back, the joy will always flicker and never die out. It will always flame up and conquer the sadness, just when I need it the most. I am trusting that My Father will make sure of it. And that thought alone brings me the most incredible joy imaginable.