Where's Your Joy?

By: Lisa Petrarca

Walking into class I noticed an older Asian lady standing near the back of the room. Her clothes were mix matched, black biker shorts, flowered green shirt over a red tank top and high yellow socks. It was a stark contrast to the stylish, younger crowd of dancers in the class.

As the class began the lady, tried to keep up with the complicated steps. Half way through however, she seemed to be dancing to her own music. Her arms flailed in the air, she jumped, kicked her feet up and then out to the side. I looked at her time and time again throughout the hour long class, each time smiling and actually giggling. I wasn't laughing at her. The lady radiated pure joy. She was beaming, cheeks flushed as she let out a laugh and then yelled, "Yaaay...ya...this is fun!" Others in the class were now smiling. She was infectious. Her happiness radiated and lifted the entire room.

What was it about her?

She was just one person. But...she decided to be happy no matter what. She knew that she couldn't keep up, yet she was still able to continue to find joy in what she was doing and shared her exuberance with everyone around her.

Be sure to look at the good things in your life, no matter what else is going on around you. Focus on the the blessings you've received from the Lord and change not only your circumstances, but others around you.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law.
Galatians 5:22-23

This week I would like to challenge each of you to wake up in the morning and think of five blessings in your life. Start your day off looking for the good, instead of going over your endless "To Do List" the minute your feet hit the floor. I think you'll be amazed at how your day will be transformed and the difference your attitude will have on others around you.

Finding Joy

A LITTLE BIT OF JOY

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional.

Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.

I responded to a call from an old brick building in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partyers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory in the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many poor people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.

Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needed my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.

"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knick- knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.

I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated."

"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".

I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds.

She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.

They were attentive, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you, Dear."

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done very many more important things in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider small ones. -- Author Unknown

Stop and reflect on the small moments in your life that have made a huge impact. They say that Jesus is present in your everyday situations. He is revealing himself and giving you opportunities to reach out to others everyday. We need to learn to take on Christ's nature and reach out and love others unconditionally. Look for those moments in your day that can impact someone's life.

"Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me." Matthew 25:40