Bring the Joy

It’s March and I need a new game plan. {This has nothing to do with March Madness.} 

And I need some fresh flowers for my courtyard. {This has everything to do with spring.}

I talked my niece, who is 9, into going flower shopping with me. She was reluctant until I said I’d buy her any flower she wanted. 

I told her how when I was little {in the olden days}, I’d go shopping for flowers with my grandmother and aunt and it was an all day expedition as they compared and deliberated and drove around town to all the flower farms. 

But they always bought me a flower to plant in my backyard and I realize now how much fun it was.

She listened politely then said, “Hey, did you ever have a thought come into your head while you were thinking about something else and then you can’t remember what you were thinking about first because you’re thinking about what came second?”

{I guess we were done talking about family history.}

Devon wanted a blue flower but couldn't find one so she settled on a ruffly marigold instead. 

Just then, a black and gold butterfly alighted on a flower next to her. It flew a little too close to her and we laughed as she realized she was running from a butterfly.

The butterfly is hard to see, but it's at the extreme left in the photo on the left.

Part of my spring game plan is a quest to unearth little handfuls of joy during my day. 

I’m digging deeper underneath the routine things that I enjoy every day without much thought.

Ordinary things like the aroma of my morning coffee reaching me upstairs from the kitchen, noticing the birds or deer on my evening walk, and anticipating reading the next chapter in the book on my bedside table. 

They’re not exactly excuses for exuberance but I’m savoring them as though they were.

It seems so obvious. I know to appreciate what’s in front of me is the avenue to abundant living, but those humble delights get buried as I wait for {one or two} big blasts of bliss to sweep me away. 

Maybe like a tiny seed, I need to cultivate joy, coaxing it to grow and bloom and then it will multiply. 

Maybe joy comes in the morning as a sweet talisman of hope that we made it through the dark night of whatever is wearing away our happy intentions.

Maybe joy isn’t something we find in the dawning of a new opportunity or art or endeavor or the glowing expectation for any of a hundred things we hope to find joy in. 

Maybe that’s far too much pressure for those fragile gifts. Joy is much more than that.

Joy is already with me. It’s part of me, actually. 

My middle name is Joy. And it’s my niece Devon’s middle name too. 

We searched throughout my house for all the ordinary things that had the word joy on it. We found a book, a plate, a postcard, a frame. She loves to remind me, “There’s our name.”

And after we were done planting the flowers, Devon suddenly remembered.

“Hey, I brought an extra shirt in my bag that I got in New York City at the Rockettes show and look what it says!” She pulled it out. There it was in big red and white letters, staring back at us.

Bring the joy.

I think this new game plan will carry me through to the end of March {and all its Madness} and right up to the cusp of summer.

Tell me what’s bringing you joy this spring?

I'm having coffee with my friends at Holley Gerth's place at Coffee for your Heart and with Bonnie Gray at the Faith Barista. Join me there for more posts from my blogger friends!