Expect Joy

A vibrant, crimson autumn leaf.

The swish of my favorite dress.

The soft breeze caressing my arms at exactly the right temperature.

A little girl’s bouncy curls.

The perfect combination of nutty, sweet, and savory in my salad.

Quiet moments to plan.

I’ve read multiple sources this year that proclaim the goodness of marking little gifts. Whether the goal be a long list of blessings over the year, or a couple quick jottings in your journal at the end of the night, the idea remains the same: recognizing blessings can change one’s whole outlook on life.

While seemingly simplistic, I think there is great wisdom in this thought, especially as I look over the last year and realize one of my greatest regrets is not to lift my conversations with others to happier things, to those little details for which our hearts should whisper “thank you.” I think too many of our talks these days focus on our troubles, on the decline of our culture and government, of the hardships awaiting our children in future years. I don’t negate the severity of these trials; the loss of one’s job or business, the death of a beloved one, the suffering of one of our children are too great for any spoken or written word to fathom.

But, when we apply this same sense of loss towards the future, we fail in our faith.

We are hypocrites – human, yes, but walking, animated contradictions nevertheless.

It is natural to fear. It is prudent to plan. But planning for suffering or – let’s be honest, it’s “impending doom” that often pops up as we converse – is nothing but a rejection of the truth we claim to live by. Ann Voskamp writes in her books that giving in to anxiety is atheistic. How might she make this mental leap? Consider for a moment: when you are worried, isn’t it because you suspect an imminent challenge that you cannot adequately prepare for? Or because you understand the pain a friend or child and you cannot diminish it? Some of us likely dwell more on our failure to fix the future problem, and other of us focus rather on the scariness of not knowing, or the actual hurt felt in our hearts or others.

Regardless of how we fuel this anxiety, though, it is all rooted in the knowledge that we are powerless to change or help the situation.

Yet, if we trusted – truly trusted – in the providence of our Father, we could deny the falsehood in this anxiety. Not deny the feeling we have, but deny the idea that feeling seeks to cover our minds with.

If we truly believed He loves each of us, each of our precious loved ones with a love far exceeding ours, we would never let ourselves think of ourselves as abandoned or strapped with a cross too heavy to bear.

Again, I don’t condemn the struggle with fear or despair, but I do want to highlight the danger of letting these feelings pervade our words. Words strengthen ideas, and ideas reinforce feelings.

Of course, sharing and venting have a place. Some people tend to hold their joys and inspirations silently in their hearts while needing to vent their troubles just by nature of their personality. I, admittedly, fall into this category more than anyone else I know. But, as with everything, a balance exists. And, here, is where that exercise of gratitude can aid us. Just as I must consciously sandwich my negative criticisms of a student’s paper with positive comment, so we need to follow up our sharing of struggles with words of trust and thankfulness. Similarly, as friends we are sometimes called to just listen, and sometimes may be led to give a gentle reminder of hope. Often, the circumstance will guide us to the right approach; if I sit with a friend in present trial, my presence and openness are usually the answer, but if I discuss a potential future hardship with another, bringing light to that darkness is often necessary.

We must always hold in our minds that gratitude lifts us from our present fixations to a higher plain of thought and, in turn, guides us to the higher plain of trust, which draws us to that highest resting place of hope and love which are manifested in joy.

 This progression of thought is all good and well, but most who know me will laugh and honestly point out that my typical expression is one of tiredness and worry. Ah, the trials of us introverts, who usually wear our troubles on the outside and rarely share whatever happiness or love that drives us! But, let’s face it: we’re all fallen, and it’s so much easier to expect trouble, than to expect joy – it’s in our very nature! (And, there will always be trouble and pain!) Nevertheless, if we believe in a God who loves us, we must learn to also expect joy. Otherwise, we’re like children who will never enjoy the happiness of Christmas because we’re so determined not to be disappointed that we won’t even unwrap the presents given us.

So, how do we foster this joy when we feel this weight descending? Here are four suggestions on how to focus your thoughts and shift them upwards. Physical wellness and a spiritual plan are perhaps even more important, but these are tricks to specifically halt that downward spiral before worry can arrest your heart and mind.

1. Look Up

Sometimes a physical change is the best way to force your mind outside its survival bubble to remember the big picture. My favorite way to achieve this is to take a walk in the hills or mountains. The immensity and grandeur of the landscape before my eyes quiets my thoughts, and forces me to acknowledge the greatness of the Creator; how big and how permanent is his providence governing the world. While I may not understand his actions at the moment, I am so small in the story of this world. And yet, he still prepared this sight for me to marvel at today.

Alternatively, you can get low! Easier to do, perhaps, if you have toddlers grabbing your legs and babies licking the floors. Recapture their wonder though, at how birds soar through the air or be amazed at the intricacies of the swirls and patterns of a single leaf or flower petal. If our God planned the smallest things with detail, isn’t he also guiding your life though you may not see it now?

Suffering is individual, but it is not as unique as we’d like to think.

We must not exalt our challenges so much in our self pity because as we puff up our own importance in our entitled wallowing, the growth our troubles will then be compounded. Rather, as you see the greatness of whatever challenge or trial may lie before you, turn your mind instead to your smallness and how every single person faces crosses and ponder instead the unique love your Creator possesses for you.

2. Check your to-do list

Let’s consider that you know something difficult will be present for your future. Perhaps you must prepare for a serious illness, the loss of a job, a move, a disaster, an unstable government, even – a lockdown! Prudence decrees that we do look ahead and plan accordingly. However, once you’ve decided on a course of action and the steps involved, do them and then leave it alone. Don’t keep returning to the problem, re-thinking it and reworking your plan, adding little tangents to your preparation plan, and worrying if you’ve done enough.

We cannot control all the contingencies, so quit pretending you can try to.

Perhaps the greatest turning point for Alfred the Great in his legendary battle against the Danes occurs when he is helping an old woman bake her cakes for their dinner. Now, Alfred has immense problems before him. The Danes have conquered his lands, and oppressed his peoples. When called by Our Lady to make yet another final stand, this exiled king has some difficulty in raising the loyalties of his subjects to attempt a seemingly doomed attack. The lives of all these people, their present and possible future sufferings, and his own failures fill Alfred’s mind. So when a poor woman offers the bedraggled, wandering former-king dinner in exchange for his help, he agrees and then fails to notice the cakes are burning as he turns the situation over again and again in his mind. As wonderfully depicted in Chesterton’s Ballad of the White Horse, the woman returns, scolds him, and whacks him over the head for ruining her dinner.

What is Alfred’s response? He laughs. With an act of humility, he realizes that the future will be a disaster if he cannot see the present enough to prepare his dinner – and his hope is actually renewed! The destiny of each of his subjects and the outcome of the battle don’t lie in his hands, but in God’s, and all he has to do right now is  – well, probably, scrape the burned edges off those cakes and apologize to the angry grandma.

So, if you find your mind returning again and again to the troubled future, leave those thoughts and turn to whatever your task is right now. This is truly an exercise – it requires effort just as lifting weights or doing burpies – but you’re hurting your chances of success by obsessing over how you’ll achieve it.

Unless you’re about to suffer a complete loss of your reason or the Holy Spirit’s guidance is a figment of your imagination, you are equipped to problem-solve and make decisions in the future when they arise.

And your children probably still need to eat dinner today.

3. Admit These Are the End-Times

I don’t mean to disparage any wise advice or spiritual guidance we’ve been given about preparing our hearts to accept crosses, or face greater persecutions or calamity, but I will contend that we must take these admonishments with a grain of salt. How many people have endured the destruction of a civilization? How many before us have wondered, is this it? And, while I must admit disasters have a more global feel currently and that there are fewer frontiers to escape to…excepting space – wait, maybe it was God’s plan that my brothers obsessed over Star Wars and Star Trek growing up! I concede the point. These are the end-times!

Because, how many more years have we to live? Want to estimate? Then we can go back to Revelation and count up how many years it takes for the world to fall apart and see if we’ll still be here if the last countdown has begun!

Let’s be honest. We have been told that we will see the rise and fall of civilizations, war, floods, earthquakes, pestilence, and that the last days will be marked with persecutions, prophets, evil leaders, and world-wide plagues. But – pause and consider. These occur in each of our lives. And nearly all of us can contest that it takes less time than that of a phone conversation for our lives to completely fall apart.

Death is with us at every moment. And, it is death that makes this life so precious. That drives us. That gives us the choice to be heroic or to be selfish.

If we truly believe death is a passage to a new life, and if we hold fast to the truth that our Creator has made us with purpose, then we know not to fear it. We may feel fear or despair, but we need not succumb to it. “In this life, you will have trouble but take heart.” (He’s already told us that!) “I have conquered the world.”

So, the answer is…be here. Isn’t it wondrous how often that is the solution? If you’re in a quiet moment, a peaceful valley, make an act of faith, hope, and love right now to strengthen your soul for any sprinting required in the future. If you’re on a slippery slope, don’t look down but look up to your crucified Beloved and let him be with you.

4. The Concrete Resolution

Hence, wherever you are, these are your end-times. This is your go-time. We need to open our hearts to see the grace extended to us right now, and we’ll miss it if we’re fixated on the mirage down the road. Each of us needs to find some concrete action to write our expectation of joy into our daily plan.

It could be small: starting a gratitude journal, wearing a favorite outfit, putting flowers on the table. It could be very practical like taking a walk, or spiritual, like carving out a few minutes each day or week for Adoration.

Maybe you copy the Notre Dame football team, paint a giant “Play Like a Champion Today” sign over your door and give it a fist pump each morning. (Always wanted to do this in a boys’ bedroom!) Maybe your decision is a little silly, such as picking up an engrossing fantasy novel so you can muse that even if your government is completely corrupt and your world is literally ending like those of the characters, at least there are no blue monsters attacking your city. (This exercise was very therapeutic for me last Advent.)

And perhaps your resolution is more serious: seeking out a therapist or requesting the Anointing of the Sick. Whatever it be, make it yours and make it simple so that it gets done.

Because, if we have faith, we must expect not only sorrow but also joy. Remember, too, that joy can be a quiet peace that gets us through as well as a bubbling excitement. We need to look for spots of beauty in every day to find it.

I love the Psalms for this exercise as well. So often, the poet accompanies desperate pleading with prayers of praise. This past Sunday, I read: “Teach us to number our days aright / that we may gain wisdom of heart. / Return, O Lord! How long? / Have pity on your servants! / Fill us at daybreak with your kindness, / That we may shout for joy and gladness all our days. / Make us glad, for the days when you afflicted us / For the years when we saw evil. / Let your work be seen by your servants / And your glory by their children; / And may the gracious care of the Lord our God be ours. / Prosper the work of our hands for us! / Prosper the work of our hands!” (Psalm 90)

Pray this. Mold your life around this. To paraphrase a recent bestseller, there is so much light we cannot see. God even gave us the moon to prove the Sun is still shining when it seems gone. That is how Alfred, signed with the cross, went “gaily in the dark”, and that is why there is so much to hope for right now.