Joy is a wisp when grief is thick.
I remember when my body and mind compressed inwards, insulating to protect the broken pieces of what I held so dear. In those moments, joy was a pipe-dream. The grief of spiritual trauma surgically removed laughter, hope, and even joy from within me.
But joy did come. Eventually.
It didn’t come with fanfare, with inflated balloons in a sea of marching bands. It was, in every way, unlike the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade ushering in the magic and joy of the holiday season.
Joy broke through the grief with tears. Joy was sown, soaked in gratitude, when others joined me as I trudged and stooped to pick up the pieces of my story. Joy sprouted when others stooped, bending low to pick up the pieces with me. Joy bloomed when I was loved as a neighbor. Joy radiated when my ears heard, “I believe you.”
I found joy when I was seen. I felt joy when I was heard. Joy came with a people—a community of the wounded more concerned with my well-being than with whether my grief was “right.”
Joy came in the darkness when a friend was kind enough to share their light with me.
Joy persists when I get to be that friend who lights the torches of others.
If you long for light this Advent and find joy far off, you’re in good company. The darkness may be a result of longing for Christmases of the past and realizing what is missing in the present. But Christ came to be our light in the darkness. The light passing from friend to friend originates with him. Through the dark womb of a woman, the Light of the World came because he saw us mourning in darkness.
He sees us still as he continues to extend his light and pick the pieces up with us.
With you and for you,
Jenai 🌾
Visio Divina
If you’re familiar with Lectio Divina (Latin for Divine Reading), you’ll know the practice is centered around viewing Scripture as a living word. Each reading is contemplated and centered around the person of Christ.
Visio Divina (Diving Seeing) is much the same, but with images. I created a series of Advent drawings with Visio Divina in mind, hoping that as you reflect on each image, you could experience the presence of Christ and the greater communion of the saints in the lonely journeys we walk.
My hope with each image is that you take a moment to reflect and find an extension of peace and rest as well as resonance.
You’ll find my additional thoughts on experiencing Advent as an outcast and misfit on Instagram.
For those interested in using this image as a wallpaper for your phone:
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Beautiful, Jenai. Achingly beautiful. Thank you for this.