Fountain of joy...

It bubbles up from within, 

this fountain of joy,

and it splashes and spills over and leaves messy puddles and drips,

because joy isn't neat and tidy and containable,

it's living water,

bubbling,

bubbling,

bubbling, 

up from within.

There was a time my fountain got all clogged up,

stopped up with anger and hurt,

that I had stuffed 

down,

down,

down,

and life turned gray.

Day after day,

week after week,

month after month,

I woke up to my gray life,

and color and life and joy was still all around me,

but it couldn't penetrate the gray bubble I lived in.

Revelation came,

"unresolved anger becomes depression"

so I fought to unclog the fountain,

with Word,

with Prayer,

with Worship,

with Forgiveness,

with Walking,

miles

and 

miles

of walking

and talking to Him

while I walked.

Then, on a day like all the others,

I woke up and at the end of the gray tunnel I'd lived in,

 I saw a light.

The fountain started trickling again,

slowly at first,

I think I'd forgotten how to laugh,

how to let the fountain flow fully and freely,

but eventually I remembered.

Never again, 

has the fountain stopped flowing,

like it did those two long gray years.

Sometimes the flow has slowed to a trickle

while walking through painful circumstances,

but never again has it stopped altogether.

I'm learning to keep the pump primed,

by counting my blessings,

naming them one by one,

just like the old song says.

Today, I counted 

  the beauty of the morning as I drove the grandkids to school,

the feeling of the wind in my hair on my run,

and the ache of some muscles too,

a phone call from my Hubs who's in Ghana right now,

lunch with my brother, good food and great heart conversation,

after school, having a jump roping contest with my grandson who's just learning,

and being proud of my 55 year old self that I can still jump rope pretty darn well,

getting the two grands to help me with some chores so the house looks all spiffy 

when Papa and their parents get back from Ghana on Friday,

and grandson down on his knees with me helping me mop the wood floor,

him saying, "I like to wipe things up",

These things aren't the source of the joy,

because Jesus is the living water,

but noticing these gifts He gives,

they just make that fountain gush all over,

with wild and crazy and messy
and beautiful

joy.

Still following,