joy

[White roses in front of my grandparents' house]


How do you explain joy?

Today Joy was when I decided to attend my aunt's church in Los Angeles for the second time, the first time being a couple of years ago, to find welcoming smiles and genuine kindness and warmth among strangers. We had a time of prayer after service and I prayed with two people I had just met, but it felt so right and real.

Today Joy was when I was helping my grandpa garden in his backyard.
Today Joy was when I was helping my grandpa garden in his backyard and while weeding, found a green thing that looked like a grub (a big fat worm) but which, after asking my grandpa, I discovered was the beginnings of a plant that eventually flowers.

Today Joy was when my grandpa asked me who made the world--all those trees and flowers and people. I said "Shen, Grandpa. God created the world." He shook his head and said, "What if God doesn't exist, then who made the universe?" Inside I was worried. Was my grandpa, at age 94, a proclaimed Christian, now questioning his faith, if God exists at all? And my Chinese, sucky as it is, is not advanced enough to try to convince him otherwise. But then, no one can be convinced of God, God makes Himself known to the individual in His own ways and timing. I wondered what my grandpa was trying to get at, so I did the classic respond a question with a question. "Grandpa, who do YOU think made the world?" He didn't respond right away. He looked at me, thinking, and pointed at my watch. "Look at your watch. All the parts that make up that watch were intricately put together to make it work. Humans did that." He paused again. "Look at the world. You think all the parts just came together on their own and worked? No, someone must have done it. God did that. Where would we be without Him?" I smiled back at him, and in my head I was rejoicing. He believed, and even in his old age, even though he's too old to go to church because his ears are bad and he can't hear well, still thinks about God, about the world, and turns back to praise Him. So old and young, granddaughter and grandpa, with seventy-four years between them, looked at each other and knew, knew that we had God to thank for our existence. Something in me felt so still in that moment. Still with peace and gratitude and love.

Today Joy was when I went for my first run in 6 weeks since I sprained my ankle. I only ran for 16 minutes, and I was panting, out of shape but happy to know it and do something about it. Sweat on my brow and a little discomfort in the ankle, but it was okay. I know it'll be okay.

Today Joy was a quiet moment with my grandma. She was half asleep, lying on the bed. I sprawled out next to her on my grandpa's side of the bed, and placed my hand in her open palm, squeezing her hand. Her fingers curled around mine instinctively, and she squeezed back. Maybe unconsciously she knew that is what you do when someone holds your hand, but maybe she also knows that we love her. Even though she doesn't recognize me and barely says two words each day, I hope she knows that she is loved. We held hands for a minute and I looked down at my grandma's sleeping face and remembered, many years ago when her wrinkled, weathered hands held my five-year old ones and told me stories, fed me food, wiped my tears. Oh, Grandma.

How do you explain joy? Sometimes you can't really define it. Joy, like God, just is.