March 22, 2020 – A little over a year ago I was standing at the window of my hospital room on 7 North. Two am. Waiting for the nurse to come in and hang the next bag of chemo. It had started to snow and even above the beeps, dings and relentless HVAC, I could hear the quiet. Saucer flakes swirled down whitening the roof of the crematorium across the highway and a woman came outside to smoke under an awning. I touched the window glass. A curtain of snow slid by. Cold it was. Then, in a breath, a great joy bloomed up inside me, crowding out everything. Each flake a penny from heaven.
It’s Joy’s nature to catch us by surprise. You can’t pick it off the shelf or buy it online. You can’t salt it on your beans and rice. It waits inside like overwintering seeds.
May Joy catch you up today. May it come when you need it most. May you see it before it melts.