Nine Ladies Dancing

 Nine Ladies Dancing

Joy Without Guilt

      I have never been much of a dancer.  O' there are plenty of people that comment when I dance and I can assure you that it's memorable, but not in the best way.  No one will use the phrase "good" along with the word dancer to describe me.  Maybe the word unique or different.  Dancing wasn't something that Tiff enjoyed. I would silly dance in the house, but I always wanted to slow dance with my love.  It seemed romantic and sweet.  Dancing is a picture of joy, celebration, freedom, and movement.  And for someone who is grieving, that image can feel almost offensive or like it goes against the grain of their intense emotions.  It feels contradictory or like a betrayal.  How can there be dancing when your heart feels heavy?  How can joy exist when someone you love is missing?  How can Christmas be celebrated when it doesn’t look the way it used to?  Day Nine speaks directly to that tension.

      Many grieving people carry an unspoken burden: joy guilt.  If you are unfamiliar with grief then that phrase can seem foreign to you, the problem is that you can't google translate an answer for it.  What is joy guilt?  It's when you feel guilty for laughing, guilty for enjoying a moment, guilty for smiling in a photo, or guilty for feeling “okay” for a few hours.  It can feel like joy dishonors the one you lost.  Like happiness means forgetting.  Like celebration means betrayal.  But Scripture tells a different story.  When we are grieving we always have to allow the Word to have final say.  The Bible says “You turned my mourning into dancing; You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy (Psalm 30:11)."  Notice the order: mourning comes first.  God does not erase grief—He transforms it.

      We often think joy and grief cancel each other out.  We often think that they are opposites, when in all reality they are different sides of the same coin.  In the kingdom of God, they coexist.  Jesus Himself embodied this truth.  Think of the complexity that Jesus displayed.  He wept at Lazarus’ tomb.  He celebrated at weddings.  He carried sorrow and purpose at the same time.  Joy doesn’t mean you aren’t grieving, nor should you feel guilty for feeling joy.  Joy is a natural part of life, and for the believer it's part of the fruit of the Spirit.  Grief isn’t the only thing you’re allowed to feel, though other emotions might feel foreign to you again during grief.  Grief is like a black hole drawing in all other emotions.  But I want to remind you, your heart is big enough to hold both.

    Dancing isn't about perfection, it's about movement.  We aren't rehearsing for dancing with the stars.  In grief, movement can feel terrifying.  Staying still feels safer.  There is something comfortable about staying inside, remaining under the covers that is so tempting.  But God invites you to move—not quickly, not forcefully, not dramatically—but gently.  Movement might look like showing up to a gathering, or enjoying a song/movie, watching your children laugh, letting a moment pass through without trying to shut it down.  That kind of movement is holy, sacred, and helps breaks the grief that besets you.

      If your grief is deep, it’s probably because your love was deep.  Joy does not minimize that love.  Joy testifies to it.  I wrestled with that in the beginning.  I remember the first time I smiled again.  I vividly remember the first real laugh I had.  I went a good month plus without laughing.  I remember how it made me feel.  It felt wrong at first, but then it felt so good, like a part of me was rising up.  Friend, your ability to experience joy again is evidence that love shaped you—and continues to shape you.  You haven't stopped loving that person, a matter of fact you probably love them more today then you did on the day they died.  Love doesn’t end in grief.  It grows alongside healing.

      I remember a time when Tiffanie I won a 'free' get away.  It was to a timeshare.  It was 'free' but you had to listen to a lecture and have a strong sales pitch delivered to you.  I remember only saying one word to the salesman, NO.  God is not pushing joy on you.  He is offering it.  He isn't knocking at the door of your heart with a suitcase full of cheap tricks.  He's showing you, with love and patience, that joy is still available to you because He alone can give it.

      Joy started to arrive back in my life in small, quiet ways.  Things like a smile that surprised me, or a laugh that catches me off guard, or a moment of peace I didn’t expect.  You don’t have to chase joy.  You only have to stop pushing it away when it comes.  That can be tough.  As people grieving we oftentimes expel a lot of energy fighting against joy, instead of simply resting it in.

   When joy appears today—even briefly—pause and say  “Thank You, God, for this gift.”  You don't have to explain it, you don't have to feel guilty, and you don't have to apologize for feeling joy.  You only should feel gratitude to a Father in Heaven who loves you so.

Reflection Questions:

      - In what areas are you feeling joy returning?

      - Are you currently experiencing 'joy guilt?"

      - In what areas are you praying for joy to break 

        through?

A Prayer for Joy

Lord, I confess that joy sometimes feels wrong after loss.  But You are the Giver of joy, and You know my heart.  Help me receive moments of happiness without guilt or fear.  Teach me that joy does not erase love or memory.  Let joy become a gentle companion as I continue to grieve.

Amen.