Joy (Five Minute Friday--an exercise in writing for five minutes on one topic)                      

Bobbi Barnett-Dick

I didn't at first notice when joy left.  It was a gradual parting. She left when the mundane became the norm. When bills and bankruptcy piled so high I couldn't breathe. When  the tension between a husband and wife was more prevalent then the love they shared.

With boxes, un-open and stacked high  from an unwanted move from my dream home I took a job I didn't want because I had to.  With no time to grieve the loss of a life I loved I was plunged into the grief that came with the loss of three loved ones in three years. They weren't  just anyone. They were a mother, a sister, a friend. The grief was palpable. The anger and angst consuming.

I tried reading that gratitude book. Felt only slightly bad when it hit the wall after I threw it in desperation. I was grateful for a roof, for my children, for blue sky. But the roof was leaking the children had two sets of braces that needed to be paid for and the blue sky had long since turned gray and foreboding. What does anyone know of my pain

The crushing burden of it all hit one afternoon when I accepted that once again I could not afford to attend that Writer’s conference I had always dreamed of.  My dreams would have to be packed away…. again playing second fiddle to “real life”—jobs and duty and responsibility. Grabbing a tasteless granola bar from the cabinet where all of the low cal, low taste, fat-free, carb-free options piled high along with my self judgment, I bit into the crisp snack and both felt and heard the crack at the same moment. My molar and the granola bar entered a contest of wills and the molar lost. I spit out a piece of tooth just as I spit out my last bit of hope. I tried to be optimistic…at least it was not a front tooth. I could hide it while we tried to save money to have it repaired. But there was no use. Joy was gone, and now her dear friend Hope was taking flight as well.

Once alone in my room , I fall to my knees, crying out to God with a long list of “Whys.” Why did He turn other people’s pain to blessings, why did He give me dreams I couldn't fulfill and gifts I couldn't use? Why didn’t He love me like He loved others? Why? Why? Why? I am angry now.

Now I am on my face with carpet in my teeth, tears of self pity puddling under my cheek. I am clearly the ugliest I have ever been both physically and spiritually.  The door to my privacy opens and a teenager steps over my hysteria and asks for a ride to the mall.  They literally step over me, my puddles and my piles of used tissue to interrupt my much earned emotional breakdown and they ask me when I could be ready to take them to the mall. I stare at those carpet fibers twirled one around the other and begin the giggle. I giggle at my own childishness and imagine what God must be thinking right about now. The giggle gives way to laughter. I don’t know what is so funny, and my teen thinks I am nuts. Shaking his head he leaves. I believe he is right.

It is then, uninvited she returns. Joy dances into the room as laughter erupts from my comma of self pity.. She brings with her reminders that sooth me. Reminders of daily provision. Reminders of love returned…of gas in the tank….of children who sing….flowers that bloom….kisses that heal.  Joy returns. I have missed her.