receive joy.

Telling the truth about ourselves can be hard. The wisest people I’ve known have comfortably admitted that they’re not as self-aware as they think they are, and that’s what gives way for growth.

It’s growing season for me.

Recently, I received feedback from several colleagues on what it’s like to be on the other side of me. The past two weeks have allowed me to hear their summaries of me and ask for examples. Today, I had another opportunity over lunch to learn how I come across to others. I have concluded that the people closest to me believe strongly that I am always frustrated. Often upset. Regularly angry. Most accurately–that I lack joy in anything they can see. And the evidence shows that they see quite a lot.

I’ll confess that I find this severely devastating.

I’ve always thought that I’ve approached life with extreme effort and that my endeavors should count for something. Good intentions, at the very least. Until last week, I was unaware of just how my desire for structure and order produced visible irritation. What is becoming clearer is that where my work is concerned, internally and externally, fruit is hard for others to find.

Not impossible. But challenging to identify in every day interactions.

What is most confusing for me is that the emotions I feel versus the emotions others perceive continuously misalign. I don’t mean to blow routine feedback out of proportion and completely collapse in on myself. What I am trying to do is make sure I’m not listening to my own narration of events more closely than the people who consistently experience me in various forms. I’d like to ensure I stop proving Einstein’s definition of insanity right.

So the question becomes one of how. As someone who said yes to walking with Jesus 21 years ago, I have recurrently wondered what “choosing joy” truly means in practice and why it is so difficult to achieve. If I feel any spiritual failure deeply, it is this one.

Driving home earlier, I remembered Griffin singing as he played in the kitchen last night. “Receive joyyyyyyy! Receive joy!” He pulled out lyrics from the bridge of a treasured song.

Receive it.

Receive joy.

That implies that it’s being given to me. I don’t have to search for it. I only need to change my posture from closed to unfolded. Head up. Palms open.

When I am told things about myself that ruins the image I wish others had of me.
Head up. Palms open.

When I work incredibly hard to implement solutions to the feedback and I still come up short.
Head up. Palms open.

When I have a positive outlook on my day, but no one notices the change in my spirit.
Head up. Palms open.

What if the practice of better posture is the thing that produces the joy? What if the compound effect of being a gracious receiver of whatever comes my way eventually is lasting joy?

I don’t have any other ideas yet on how to bring about transformational change. Maybe that’s the entire point. To not fight for control. To start by receiving what’s being extended to me as a tool for growth. Surely, there’s a joy to be found in gaining wisdom. At the very least, gratitude.

So Lord, thank you for the people who were willing to share the truth about me, to me. Thank you for what I am learning in this pruning season. Help me to hold it up to the light of your correction with confidence that you’ll lead me into transformational change. That you’ll produce the fruit in me. Help me become a faithful receiver. Amen.