Meeting Joy

Six months ago, I was asked to come up with some names for a baby girl for the granddaughter of one of the women from the HIV group. I gave a few of my favorites from the bible and she thanked me profusely.

Several weeks later, she told me that the mom wanted to name the baby Joy. I felt a big lump in my throat. I remembered the night my sister called and announced that Lindsey Joy had been born. Then and now I felt so honored and humbled. She said her daughter had heard about me from her mom and wanted to use the beautiful name. Not to be vain, but Joy is a very beautiful name.  For many years, it felt like a curse to me—something I had to live up to. Now I love the name, as a reminder that one can be peaceful even on days when we are not happy.

So I got to meet baby Joy yesterday and she is so beautiful and has the sweetest disposition. I am not including a picture of her breast feeding (as women here are free to expose more than American women). I don’t believes there are many more tender moments than that of nursing your baby 

Meanwhile, I have been experiencing more joy here. I have found walking very soul restoring and I look forward to doing dishes at night just to have some peaceful quiet time.

I took Josh out for a mother/son lunch.  There is now a place that serves pizza on Fridays.  The place was packed with white faces-long term missionaries, a cricket team from the UK, new group of Peace corps, and two young short term missionaries, just to name a few. I almost didn’t like being in such a homogeneous environment.

My joy at lunch came not from the fabulous pizza, but from getting to spend time with my dear first born. We are very different. He likes computer programs, I think Java means coffee. He creates governments in his free time; I wonder what the name of our Vice President is.  He is comfortable doing his hour long radio show alone, while I struggle with my five minutes slot. He is a night owl; I go to bed before him most nights. But I am so proud of him and love to see the Godly young man that he is becoming.

He let me hold his hand when we walked down the street, and I remember how we used to go out for Chinese food when he was less than two and how I was already so enthralled with him. 

I love catching glimpses of joy in the ordinary things of life. Joy isn’t about having what you always wanted.  It is about being grateful for what you do have.  And as I see joy in life, I find that I am finding out more about who I (Joy) am.

-Joy