PollyAnna's Definition of JOY: Dancing

If you haven’t read my previous post where I discuss and define JOY from my own perspective, I highly recommend that you read that post before you proceed with reading this post. Just a suggestion. :)

Dancing.  

1 Samuel 18:6

“When the victorious Israelite army was returning home after David had killed the Philistine, women from all the towns of Israel came out to meet King Saul. They sang and danced for joy with tambourines and cymbals.”

Jeremiah 31:13

The young women will dance for joy, and the men—old and young—will join in the celebration. I will turn their mourning into joy. I will comfort them and exchange their sorrow for rejoicing.

Psalm 149:3

Let them praise his name in the dance: let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp. (KJV)

My hap-hazard definition: “When it comes to JOY, it has to do with excitement, enthusiasm in Jesus that creates such a high that the person is unable to physically contain it, so he/she must do something physical for release. It's better than the high of any drug or human emotion/feeling. It can only come from God/Jesus/the Holy Spirit. And when it comes, you wanna dance, jump, sing, shout, leap, clap, play, eat, feast, cry, celebrate, praise the Lord, laugh, run, and even forgive!

There is no way to contain JOY in your physical body! It must come out in some way, shape, form or fashion!! If I'm happy, I might smile or simply just BE. But if I'm JOYFUL, I have to DO!! BEING simply isn't enough!!!”

I can’t dance. It’s true. I have no rhythm. This white girl seriously cannot dance. I watch ballet dancers or hip hop dancers or whatever other kinds of dancers and I am in awe at their moves. They are simply a-mazing! The only kind of dancing I have ever succeeded at doing is the kind done to a Richard Simmons exercise VHS/DVD. And that was after working out to the same DVD over and over and over again!

But I love Dance. I love to move my body. Sometimes I just can’t help but move in some form. It doesn’t matter that I have no rhythm. I just gotta move! I just gotta “Shake” (by MercyMe)! The JOY of the Lord gets ahold of me and I have to move my body in whatever way I can. (MercyMe also has a song called "Happy Dance" that fits appropriately! I just couldn't get it to fit in as part of my paragraph! LOL!)

I have to Dance before the Lord and let my JOY out! Yes, just like Happy Feet: "You must resist! Stand your ground" But the more the penguins watch Happy dance with JOY, the more they can't help but join him in dance!!! (Honestly, before that movie came out, did you ever in your wildest dreams ever think that you would enjoy a movie about penguins DANCING?! LOLOLOL!!! But we LOVED it!!!)

Do you remember in the 1980s the television show Perfect Strangers? My favorite part of that show was when Balky and Cousin Larry would do the "Dance of JOY"! It was a dance that Balky taught Larry that was from his country. Larry pretended to hate it, but the camera would always catch his smile of JOY as he couldn't help dancing with his beloved cousin. My sister and I actually wanted to attempt to learn the "Dance of JOY," but, as I said, I can't dance.

A week or so ago, I watched a video of a young man, Andrew, who went on The Greatest Dancer, a reality contest show. Andrew is special needs (autistic), but when he gets on the dance floor, everything disappears; he’s in another world and his JOY shows. As I watched the video, the evidence of his JOY in dance is clear and everyone watching him saw it, too. The applause for Andrew and his dance was thunderous. I have no idea what happened with Andrew as far as the contest is concerned, but I sure did get an awful lot of JOY out of watching that boy dance, as have millions of other viewers!

Another video that has gone viral as we have all watched is of an amazing young woman, Katelyn Ohashi, who does her dancing acrobatics with pure and utter JOY. One newsman said that she got her perfect 10 for her JOY! Just watch the video. Her JOY is in every move she makes, as well as in her teammates in the background, performing right along with her. I myself have watched the video a number of times because I love the smiles on her face! I revel in her JOY as she dances.

Have you ever danced and not felt wonderful afterward? Seriously. Maybe you’ve felt winded, of course, but dancing is a physical activity that brings great JOY and pleasure to a lot of people. If that isn’t true, then why are there so many bars that offer dancing? Why are there so many [young] people going out dancing [all night]? Why is the pull to go dancing so strong among our young? Why does the enemy use dancing as a siren call to our young people?

Dancing brings great JOY because JOY involves action; dancing is simply one physical expression of JOY. As I say in my definition, it’s better than any high or drug and the enemy knows that, so it’s easy for him to use dancing to get to our young people and use it to entice them to sex and all other means of turning away from a life with God. God created dancing for JOY and praise. But the enemy uses for his own glory instead.

Remember the movie Footloose? That’s what that movie is all about. Dancing is an expression of JOY. That’s what it should be. But the enemy uses it to disgrace the physical body and to make what is beautiful a very ugly act. We can’t stop dancing just because the enemy attempts to use something beautiful for evil. Kevin Bacon fights to prove that dancing is an expression of JOY, not a way to get in each others' panties. Granted, he is having sex with the preacher's daughter in a quite ironic twist to the story, but that is not because they're dancing.

God created dancing. It’s a JOYFUL act. It’s beautiful. It’s wonderful! It’s a physical expression of our JOY. The enemy wins if we stop dancing or if we dance suggestively. We have to dance with JOY and in the JOY of the Lord. We have to dance as David danced before the Lord! When we dance with JOY, we invite the presence of the Holy Spirit and we draw ever closer to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Just because we don’t have any evidence in the Bible that Jesus danced while He was a physical man on earth, that doesn’t mean He didn’t dance or that He didn’t want to dance. Jesus had a specific job, ministry, to do in the three years of ministry He had. We know He attended at least one wedding where He performed a miracle: He turned water into wine. We can assume that He danced at that wedding, but beyond that, it is difficult to imagine that He partied, let alone danced for a lot of people.

When you consider the fact that Jesus grew up in a village and would have known everyone and would have been very social, He had to have been to a lot of social gatherings. It is very plausible to imagine that Jesus would have danced at many social gatherings as He grew up and prepared for His ministry. It simply doesn't make sense to me that Jesus would have sat and watched everyone else enjoying the party or that He would have stayed home. Or that He would have gone to the Temple instead of the party.

Jesus knew the people. He interacted with them during His years prior to His ministry. He lived among them, doing the same things that they did, and that included weddings, birthday parties, celebrations, and especially all of the Jewish celebrations which would have included dancing because the Bible very clearly tells the Israelites to celebrate with dancing and tambourines!

I think that we’ve put Jesus and His disciples in a box and haven’t allowed for anything beyond what is written in the scriptures. The Bible tells us that if they had tried to write down everything that happened while Jesus was alive and in ministry, there simply wouldn’t be enough time or paper:

John 21:25 New Living Translation (NLT)
Jesus also did many other things. If they were all written down, I suppose the whole world could not contain the books that would be written.

Writing about Jesus celebrating simply wasn’t what was important enough to be written about because, for heaven’s sake, everyone goes to weddings and birthday parties and laughs and dances and celebrates. We wouldn’t need to have that part of Jesus’ life written about!

But yet, because it’s not written about, some theologians and other

believers want to claim that there wasn’t any room or time for Jesus to live a normal life--to live, to laugh, to love, to celebrate, to dance. No, I don’t believe that Jesus was ever married. That’s just plain heresy. But I do believe that Jesus celebrated life--that He LIVED, LAUGHED, LOVED, DANCED. I believe that Jesus felt JOY and that maybe, just maybe, Jesus even danced.

And that He danced with great JOY. . . .

PollyAnna's Definition of JOY

This post has been a long time coming. LOL! 

First of all, as I begin my definition of JOY, I know that most people who define JOY begin by comparing it to happiness. As that has been done repeatedly and you can find it in more sources about JOY and happiness than not, I am going to forego that comparison here. If you disagree with my decision, please feel free to add your comparison in the comments section for me. I will not complain. :) 

Secondly, I hope that you understand that the definition of JOY that follows is my own, PollyAnna's, but it is based on my own study on JOY that I have been doing for the past 10 years. For the sake of this very first post being a quick, simple definition of JOY, I am not going to post/share my references/sources and other background information from my extensive study on JOY. I am simply going to share my brainstorming of my definition here. Future posts will delve deeper into each individual aspect and will include specific sources and so on. My purpose here is just to share my definition of JOY with you so that I can begin the conversation, which I truly hope will happen.

Thirdly, JOY truly is my jam. The Lord has anointed me with His anointing oil of JOY. No matter how bad things get in my life, God continues to remind me of His anointing. He continues to give me strength through JOY. He continues to sing over me with JOY. He continues to call me His JOY Song. I can't run from it, no matter how hard I might try. ;) Even in my deepest, darkest days, God has found me and has turned my mourning into JOY as only the Creator of the Universe can.

So when I talk about JOY, I hope that you understand that it comes from a place inside of my very soul that is seeking to honor this anointing God has placed on me as well as the gifts He has given me. I can only be obedient to what He has called me to do. 

A number of years ago as I was copying down all the verses on JOY in the Bible (something I wanted to do as part of my study on JOY), it struck me how often I was writing down words of ACTION for JOY. (For those of you who might be new, I am an English major, so noticing something like that comes naturally to me. 😀) I went back to the verses I had already copied and read them again. One after another: action verb, action verb, etc. I continued with the rest and it was the same: action verb, action verb, action verb, etc.

If you don't believe me, look:

1. Dancing.  1 Samuel 18:6 
2. Shouting.  2 Samuel 6:15 
3. Playing an instrument. Psalm 27:6 
4. Bowing in worship.  2 Chronicles 29:30 
5. Singing.  Psalm 100:2 
6. Praising the Lord so that the very ground shakes.  1 Kings 1:40 
7. Celebrating.  1 Chronicles 12:40
8. Eating.  Ecclesiastes 9:7 
9. Feasting and drinking.  1 Chronicles 29:22 
10. Gift giving.  1 Chronicles 29:17 
11. Even weeping.  Yes, weeping. Ezra 3:13 
12. Sacrificing.  Nehemiah 12:43 
13. Laughing. And even skipping!  1 Chronicles 15:29 
14. Hand clapping.  Nahum 3:19 
15. Leaping.  Malachi 4:2
16. Restoring.  Job 33:26 
17. Forgiving.  Psalm 32:1 
18. Salvation.  Psalm 51:12 (I know this is written as a noun, but you have to ask for salvation and then receive it, so there is quite a bit of action involved in salvation!)
19. Crying (tears).  Jeremiah 31:9 
20. Enthusiasm!  Deuteronomy 28:47 (Ok, this one's not actually an action verb, but you have to HAVE enthusiasm and that involves an action, right?)
21. Giving birth.  John 16:21 
22. Putting our faith into practice and standing firm.  2 Corinthians 1:24 
23. Growing spiritually.  Philippians 1:25 
24. Acceptance.  Hebrews 10:34 (Again, another noun, but acceptance involves action, so in spite of it being written as a noun, you can't have the noun without the action, so. . . .)
25. Sharing.  1 John 1:4 

Isn't that beautiful??? So, if there are 25 different verses (that I've listed here based on the New Living Translation of the Bible) in the Bible with ACTION VERBS on JOY, doesn't that stand to reason that when it comes to defining JOY, especially in regard to our Jesus, that there is some sort of action involved? It's enough for me even if it's not enough for you. 😁😁

Bear with me, now. I haven't fully created a specific definition as yet. But when it comes to JOY, it has to do with excitement, enthusiasm in Jesus that creates such a high that the person is unable to physically contain it, so he/she must do something physical for release. It's better than the high of any drug or human emotion/feeling. It can only come from God/Jesus/the Holy Spirit. And when it comes, you wanna dance, jump, sing, shout, leap, clap, play, eat, feast, cry, celebrate, praise the Lord, laugh, run, and even forgive! 

There is no way to contain JOY in your physical body! It must come out in some way, shape, form or fashion!! If I'm happy, I might smile or simply just BE. But if I'm JOYFUL, I have to DO!! BEING simply isn't enough!!! 

I know that I have trouble sitting still. I love to laugh, shout, sing, smile, clap, play, eat, feast, celebrate, praise the Lord, dance, jump, play, celebrate, and especially cry and weep. I cry and weep especially well when I'm both JOYFULL (my spelling) and sorrowful. Some of my friends even move away from me sometimes, but that's ok. The Lord anointed me with His anointing oil of JOY more than anyone else (Psalm 45:7 & Hebrews 1:9), so that's to be expected sometimes. They don't all understand. It does hurt my feelings because I'm human, but I remind myself that God is working and I put it in His hands. I cry a little more, pray, and move on.

JOY is is more than happiness because it's an action. Over the next several weeks/posts (possibly 25, lol), I hope to talk more about how JOY is an action. I hope you'll stay with me. 

Anna Rose

In 2005, when Samuel was about four years old, James finally agreed that we should (could) start trying to have another baby. I was ecstatic, to say the least!! Early in the new fall semester, we learned that we were pregnant, and I was over the moon! 

I got an appointment with Dr. Merta as soon as possible since I knew that I was already considered high risk. Even though we'd had one successful live birth four years earlier, there had been the two previous losses prior to Samuel. I was still very nervous, needless to say.

Things were looking good. I was throwing up every single day, which many women may see as a bother, but I saw it as a blessing. As long as I was throwing up, I knew my baby was fine. As long as I was getting sick, I was still pregnant. I was happy to throw up every single day.

The morning I didn't throw up, I knew. I just didn't want to believe it. I still hoped. But deep down, where my knower knows, I knew.

I didn't say anything to anyone. I went to school. I acted as normal as possible. It was two days before Thanksgiving. It was an easy week at school; I had made sure that my classes were workdays, so my students didn't have to worry if they chose to take the time to be with family rather than come to class. There were only two students in the classroom with me that morning. We chatted throughout the hour, mostly. I tried to get some work done, as did they, but it is difficult to focus when there are so few people in the room and it's a holiday week.

At one point during the hour, I felt an odd POP in my vaginal region. Yes, like a balloon had popped inside my vagina. I knew that was very strange, but I just thought I had peed a little and that I would go straight to the bathroom as soon as the hour was up--which was in just a few minutes. I could hold on for just a few more minutes.

As the three of us were saying goodbye and walking out of the classroom, the gentleman had stepped off to the side to allow me to go ahead of him. I walked by him and he said, "Where's all this blood coming from?"

With barely a glance behind me, I knew exactly where it was coming from.

I screamed and raced from the room. 

I spent the next hour in the bathroom sitting on the toilet, screaming and crying. Crying and screaming. There were several ladies with me. A few on-campus EMTs came to check on me. An ambulance was called because I refused to allow anyone to drive me to the hospital; I would not ride in anyone's car because of how badly I was bleeding. I was scared to get off the toilet, too, because it was one of those auto-flush ones and I did not know if, well, if I had already passed the baby. We made sure one of the EMTs looked quickly as I moved off onto the stretcher.

I was taken out of the bathroom on a stretcher, in front of everyone. That was when I remembered that the bathroom didn't have a ceiling, so everyone in the building had been listening to me scream and cry for the past hour or so and everyone knew what was going on. I pulled the sheet up over my head and wept.

The next several hours can only be described as more horror. James met me at the emergency room at the hospital. We spent many hours just waiting in a room. A doctor came in and examined me, pulling out one blood clot after another. He was very callous and cold. At one point, he even held one up and said, "This could be it." 

What an idiot. I think James and I both disliked that doctor with a passion.

In spite of the fact that someone had called Dr. Merta, because I had ridden in the ambulance, he could not see me until the ER doctor released me. It was a huge relief to be finally in his very capable and comforting and understanding hands. He prepped me for a D&C.

I don't know if having a D&C is the right thing to do when having a miscarriage, my friends. Please don't judge me. The horror of these experiences cannot truly be described in words on a page like this. I had to do what my doctor recommended and felt was best for me. I was scared and I trusted Dr. Merta. 

As with my first miscarriage after surgery, I woke up in recovery, sobbing. 

I honestly do not remember much after that. 

I do not remember Thanksgiving or Christmas. I think my family came here that year because I was not up for traveling. 

My depression worsened. 

I withdrew from everyone and everything, especially my husband. In fact, he withdrew from me. We withdrew from each other. We both put all our focus on Samuel and only talked to each other when it came to Samuel or anything absolutely necessary.

It was during this time that if I could have taken my life, I would have. But I was not going anywhere without Samuel, so if I did it, it was going to be with him. I wrote stories about it. I imagined it in full detail. I knew exactly how I would do it. 

But then I would look at Samuel playing and his zest and love for life and how absolutely cute and adorable he was and there was no way I was going to ever take that away from this world. The world needed that gorgeous boy and his laughter, whether it needed me or not.

Samuel saved my life.

It took a long time, but I finally named this baby, too. Again, we have no idea whether this baby was a boy or girl. I was only 11 weeks along, again. I decided to use a girl's name: Anna Rose. It is a twist on my mother's name, Rosanne, as well as my middle name, Anna. And it comes from my family member's real name, Rosella. Appropriate, don't you think?

I imagine my Anna Rose would have been my shy one. Quiet. Reserved. The mothering-type from the womb. Girlie, loving all things pink, and everything the stereo-typical girl loves. Panya Ruth, I think, would have been my mini-me--joyous, rambunctious, full of life, difficult to reign in, always going full tilt! My two girls would have been best friends, despite their age difference. 

You would think that after all these years (I miscarried Anna Rose on November 10, 2005) it gets easier. 

It doesn't. 

It just gets different.

Warm Fuzzies

At one point in my young life, I remember something called "Warm Fuzzies" that were passed around. They were these little balls of fluff with wiggly eyes glued to them, tiny antennae, and large feet that were often stickers. We gave them to friends, teachers, etc. as a little way of encouraging one another. You know, a little "Warm Fuzzy" to help each other feel all warm and fuzzy, to bring a smile to one's face, at least for a moment or whenever he/she would look at/see the cute Warm Fuzzy and be reminded of the act of kindness.

I know it was silly and not everyone liked it--or even "got" it, but I always thought it was cute and fun. I had a purple Warm Fuzzy on my desk (yes, I took the sticker off the feet and stuck it to my desk permanently) for many years and I loved and cherished him. I gave many a Warm Fuzzy. I wish I could find them now, but in spite of my best efforts of searching, I can't find them anywhere.

I'm pretty sure it was my mom who taught me about Warm Fuzzies.

She is one of the greatest encouragers on the planet. She is my biggest cheerleader, that's for sure. Even when I mess up, big, she is right there, ready to tell me that it's ok; I have never messed up so big that she won't love me. Or that I can't overcome whatever it is that has happened. She still sends or gives me "Warm Fuzzies" of her own creation in the form of notes or takes me out to my favorite restaurant.

It truly means the world to me that my mom still encourages me with Warm Fuzzies.

I want to be a woman who passes on that legacy. I find myself, though, spraying my suppressed anger more than spreading encouraging Warm Fuzzies. It breaks my heart more than I can tell you. I can't help but wonder if God has a special bottle just for those tears or if all my tears are equal. 

I desperately want to give Warm Fuzzies. I want to encourage you to find JOY. I want to help you Choose Joy in your day-to-day living. I know how difficult it is. I've been down the road of the Hard and I know that Choosing Joy daily, hourly, minute-by-minute is a challenge that comes only through the strength of our Lord. But God gave us one another and encouragement from our brothers and sisters in Christ certainly can't hurt. I feel that the Lord has called me to be that for you.

He has given me an anointing oil of JOY more than anyone else (Psalm 45:7 & Hebrews 1:9). I know that He has comforted me so that I may comfort others (2 Corinthians 1). I desire to be used by Him to help others. I want you to feel safe when you are around me. One of the greatest compliments you could ever give me would be to tell me that you felt all warm and fuzzy while spending time with me.

There are many times, though, when I am angry or wrapped up in my own sadness and depression, and "you" are no longer on my radar. I am. And in those moments, I need the Warm Fuzzies. I need encouragement. Often I get them. And I appreciate them more than I can say. Sometimes the Lord sends a cardinal to remind me that He is still here, watching over me. My mom is always here to remind me that I can do anything. And I do have some amazing friends who encourage me.

But wouldn't it be nice if we sent more Warm Fuzzies more often, like every single day? I'm so tired of all the hate. It hurts my heart when I'm scrolling through Facebook or other social media or watching the news and . . . [fill in the blank]. We're all so busy focusing on being right or own agenda that we don't stop to think about the PERSON on the other end. I prefer stories of encouragement or of people being kind to one another. 

Don't be surprised if one day soon you begin to see digital Warm Fuzzies popping up in your IMs. I wish I could find the real, originals, but since I can't, the digitals are going to have to do.

And, just in case you're wondering, I don't mind if you reciprocate. :)

He Catches All my Tears: A Story

            “Wha’cha doin’, Lord?,” Gabrielle asked, as only someone familiar with God and His machinations could.

            “Oh, hi, Gabrielle. I just finished catching Polly’s tears,” the Lord said as He put the cap on a very large, beautiful pink bottle and placed it on a table.

            “Polly? Again? Lord, forgive me, but aren’t You getting sick and tired of focusing so much of Your Precious time catching her tears? She’s been crying nonstop for twenty years now, right?”

God nodded, “Give or take.”

“Good grief, every time we turn around, she’s crying again. Can’t she keep it together? She is so super co-dependent! She just needs to take her meds and get off it. Why can’t she just get over it already? Sheez! The angels are beginning to talk, you know.”

            The Lord smiled gently as He sat at His desk, pulling Polly’s book close, and opening to a clean page. He began writing.

            Gabrielle spent the time waiting to walk around the room, looking at the various bottles the Lord kept stored with their books. Gabrielle had no idea how in the world God had the time to keep track of all the tears of all the individual people in the world, write their individual sorrows in their books, and keep track of all the prayers that came every second of every moment of every day. It made Gabrielle’s head spin just trying to think about it, let alone comprehend it. But he knew God was God.

            Gabrielle continued His tirade. God was good at multitasking, of course. “It’s just so frustrating with this woman, Lord. I mean, come on, You Yourself gave her the anointing oil of Joy more than anyone else. I was there when You did it. It was a Joyous day. After all she’d been through already, I was just as excited as everyone else to see her finally get some relief to her tears then. That was a very good thing You did for her. It was a joy to see her tears turn from sorrow to joy that day.”

God sat back in His chair, steepling His fingers as He remembered the day He helped Polly see Psalm 45:7 in His Love Letter, knowing in her heart--feeling it deep in her knower, hearing the voice of His Holy Spirit that it was meant just for her: “You love justice and hate evil. Therefore God, your God, has anointed you, pouring out the oil of joy on you more than on anyone else.”

It had been a Glorious Day. They had all been waiting for her to see it: His angels, Jesus, His Holy Spirit, and Polly’s children--James Isaac, Panya Ruth (Panny), and Anna Rose. They were so excited for her to see it and Know that it was especially for her. Oh, the celebration they’d had when she’d Gotten It!

Polly’s children had been so delighted. They’d been dressed in their best. They’d waited with such great anticipation, alternately sitting on His lap and jumping up to run to watch their Mommy. God had chuckled at their own joy for their beloved Mommy. Even James Isaac, the oldest of the three children, trying desperately to be a big boy, couldn’t contain his excitement for his Mommy.

“Jesus, when will she see it? She’s going to be so excited! She’s going to love having Joy, isn’t she?!”

“Yes, James, she is.”

Panya Ruth came running back, her brown, curly hair flying all around her, her arms wide open as she flew full tilt into the Lord’s arms, laughing wildly. He caught her easily, laughing heartily along with her. “Oh, Jesus! Mommy is gonna be so happy with Your present! Did you put a pretty pink bow on it!”

“No, honey, I didn’t. Now why didn’t I think of that?”

“That’s ok. Anna and I will take care of it! Come on, Anna!”

Shyly, Anna stood by Jesus’ knee. The Lord put His arm around her and hugged her close. “What is it, Dearest?”

“Will my Mommy never be sad again?” her tiny voice quipped.

Panny for once sat still and quiet as a mouse. James moved closer and leaned against the Lord’s side, too. Jesus pulled Polly’s children close and kissed each before answering Anna’s important question.

“My beloveds, the gift of joy is truly a very precious gift. It is an honor to give it to your mother. She deserves it. She has fought hard since you three are here with me rather than on earth with her. As you all know, that hurts her heart very much. This is why we all want so much to give her this gift of joy, right?”

“Right,” three small voices piped, as three small bodies snuggled as close as they could to Jesus’ heart as is only possible with the Son of God.

“But your Mommy will still have sadness. Great sadness. The truth is she has a long way to go on her journey and that journey includes a lot more sadness as well as joy.”

“But why, Jesus? Why can’t Mommy just have joy all the time?” James asked boldly.

“I have a Great Work for Mommy, James.”

“A ‘Great Work’?” Panny piped in.

“Yes. And in order to prepare her for this Great Work, she is going to have to go through these seasons of sadness first. And joy, too.”

“But I only want Mommy to have Joy. I don’t like to see her so sad, Jesus,” Anna pouted prettily, tears shining in her bright brown eyes.

“I know, honey. It hurts my heart, too. Believe me. It truly does. Do you not see here, how my heart is bleeding?”

The children pulled away from Jesus enough to notice the blood stain on the front of His shirt.

James, awed, asked, “You’re bleeding because You love my Mommy that much? It hurts You that much to see her so sad?”

“Yes, James, it does.”

“I still don’t understand, Jesus,” Panny continued to pout. “If it hurts Your heart so much that You bleed for her, then let her have joy all the time!”

All three children sat up and looked at Jesus with their beautiful brown, puppy-dog eyes, blinking at Him with the Great Hope, believing with all their little Hearts that He would choose just Joy for their beloved Mommy and no more sadness.

“Oh, my sweets. Do you see how very joyful I am here with you in spite of my sadness, in spite of the fact that my heart breaks enough to bleed for people like your Mommy?”

“Yes,” all three children nodded solemnly.

“Do you remember what happened to me before I came to live here forever?”

“Of course. It’s our favorite story,” Anna said quietly. “You were murdered.”

“That’s right. I was nailed to a cross. I died a horrible death because I loved each of you and your Mommy so very much.”

The children put their tiny hands in His and traced the nails’ scars. Panny reached up and pushed His hair off His forehead, revealing the scars from the thorny crown. “Did it hurt much, Jesus?” She planted a kiss on one of the larger scars.

“Yes, it did, sweetheart.”

“But you’re Jesus!” James’ eyes almost popped out of his head.

Jesus chuckled. “That may be so, son, but at that moment, I was a human man and it hurt as such things hurt any human being. I was in more physical pain throughout the whole of that time than you can imagine. And I don’t want you to imagine it.”

“Oh, Jesus!” Anna threw her arms around Jesus, hugging him tightly, her tears flowing freely.

Panny kissed His brow over and over.

James grinned goofily at Him.

“But You still haven’t exactly explained why Mommy can’t have joy all the time, Jesus,” Panny reminded Jesus.

“Right, yes. Well, while I was on the cross, that was my own Great Sadness. The Greatest Sadness I have ever felt. I had been sad before and will be sad again, but that was the Greatest Sadness ever. Since I’ve come to Heaven to be with my Father, I’ve had Joy like nothing I’ve ever known before, especially since each of you has arrived!” Jesus tickled each child in turn, making each squeal in glee.

“So what I hear You saying, Jesus,” James said when they’d settled down again, is that in order to know true Joy, my Mom has to know the Great Sadness, too?”

In answer, Jesus gathered the three children in His arms and the four of them watched as Polly discovered her gift of the anointing oil of joy more than anyone else.

            “Lord?”

            “What?
            “Are you even listening to me?”

            “Yes, Gabrielle, I’ve heard every word. I was just remembering the day Polly received the anointing oil of Joy. That was a beautiful day.”

            “But what exactly did it accomplish? Here we are, You’re still catching Polly’s tears and writing in her book. You’re spending an inordinate amount of time on her, Lord. It’s too much. Why’d You give her such an anointing if it’s all for nothing?”

            “Gabrielle, don’t you receive great joy through Polly?”

            “Of course, Lord. As You well know, we all love to hear her laugh. We gather with her children and have the most wonderful Laughing Parties. Such great times.” Gabrielle smiled fondly as he thought of Polly’s children. “So why does she still cry? She has so much capacity for great Joy! And she brings so much Joy to others! Her laugh is infectious! After all she’s been through, she deserves as much Joy as she can get. Not tears, not sorrow. Oh, God, why is she still crying?!”

            “Gabrielle,” God came around the table and laid His hand on Gabrielle’s shoulder to calm him. “Your frustration is good. I am so thankful that you care so much about the one I have asked you to watch over. But have you been watching her carefully recently?”

            Gabrielle squirmed. He stood and began pacing the room, avoiding looking directly at God. “Of course. She’s getting ready for the Great Thing You have for her. She’s been in the Word so much that I haven’t needed to keep such a close watch on her.”

            “Tell me the last thing you saw with Polly.”

            “That’s easy. She fulfilled her dream of taking Samuel to Disney World.”

            “Gabrielle, it’s been five years. What have you been doing since then?” the Lord chided.

            “Well, she was doing so well, I decided to focus on some of my other assignments who weren’t doing well and who needed more of my time.”

            “Gabrielle, you saw the outward appearance. The show. Not the heart. You saw what you wanted to see. I’m disappointed in you. Why did you give up so easily?”

            “Come on, God!? Seriously? You gave her the anointing oil of Joy! She didn’t NEED watching over! Someone with such an anointing certainly doesn’t need help from us! She’s the very one who is helping others! She’s going to be made a Saint! Well, not really because they don’t really do that in her time, but she is going to be one here. Why should I spend so much time on someone who doesn’t need it? She has JOY, God! Given in over-abundance to her by You! How in the world can she possibly still have so much sorrow?! I just don’t understand. I don’t want to spend any more time watching over her. I just don’t. I’m personally sick and tired of the ups and downs. I can’t handle it, God.”

            “How do you think she feels?”

            “How do I think she feels? I don’t care anymore, Lord!! She’s driven me almost mad! This rollercoaster of emotions is too much! I have too much to do to stay on this ride with her. My stomach simply can’t handle it. Hers can’t either, you know. Why don’t You just give her the Big Thing and be done with it so we can all get on with our lives?!”

            “Gabrielle.”

            “No, God. Look at her. Look at her right now. She is worshiping you. She is fine. There is nothing wrong with her. She is praising You with all her heart and soul. She is not sorrowful. She has been studying Your Word with due diligence. She has been doing any number of Bible Studies. I saw that You sent her to that week-long place for counseling and she came home on the mountain-top. Her friends have rallied around her. Her son is doing well. She is fine. Did you hear that laughter during her Sunday School class? No sorrow. No tears. You can’t fool me. Her tears are fake. She is full of JOY.”

            “Gabrielle.”

            “I don’t believe that a woman to whom You Yourself gave the anointing oil of joy more than else can possibly be that sad, Lord! I’ll get her to go back to her doctor and up her meds. That’s it. The dosage isn’t high enough. I’ll get right on that. Ah.”

            “Gabrielle.”

            “No, Lord. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of her tears! I’m sick of You spending so much time catching her tears! I’m sick of You spending so much time writing about her sorrows in Your book! Good grief! There are other people in the world! Get her to make a decision and MOVE ON! Other people do it every day! Why can’t she?! What makes her so special that she is stuck in this rut? You have such a Special Thing for her! Give it to her! Make it happen so we can all get on with our lives! It’ll get her to stop CRYING ALL THE TIME!”

            “Gabrielle.”

            “No! You gave her the anointing oil of JOY! You can’t give that to someone and expect me to be ok with all her many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many tears! No! I’m done! I’m not going to watch over her anymore! You deal with her! I can’t take it anymore!” Gabrielle turned around to find himself completely alone.

            He sighed deeply and sat down at God’s table in front of Polly’s open book of sorrows. Sliding his hand across the page, he began to read.