Can We Talk About Joy – When I’m Supposed To Feel It?

I’ve always thought dancing brought me joy. Didn’t it? I’ve always thought dance – including as a professional dancer – was a joyful place to operate in, and to, quite literally, move around in. Wasn’t it supposed to, forevermore? I’ve often thought dancing with someone swept me into some joyful relationships. Wait, was I not feeling that anymore? And people who have watched me dance have often told me of the joy they’ve felt from the performance. But can we talk about when I don’t feel it?

Because that’s scary for me. And maybe there’s something that you think is supposed to feel joyful for you – and it’s scary when the joy seems to vanish.

For a few months recently, I wasn’t feeling the joy while dancing. Rehearsals had become merely a block to check off my calendar. Worries about not having enough show bookings had overtaken the joy of having the ones that I’d been given. I hadn’t truly danced with anyone in a long time. And, perhaps worst of all, for several performances in a row, I’d strongly doubted if anyone in the audience had gotten anything of any good out of them – let alone any actual joy.

“Thoughts” on joy

By any chance, did you notice in the first paragraph how much my “joy” revolved around what I “thought” about it?

Yeah, that’s a problem. We “think” we feel joy, or we “think” we don’t. The bigger, deeper problem is, we think we’re supposed to feel joy when we do this or that certain thing. And then we’re disappointed or confused or downright resentful when we’re not “feelin’ it.”

When I first started thinking about how to “get my joy back” and start feelin’ it again, I went straight to Galatians 5:22-23 (NIV):

And I prayed and begged multiple times each day for the Holy Spirit to grow the fruit in me. It got to the point of sounding like this: “Please, please, please, especially grow the joy piece in me – I mean, it is number 2 on the list. And after all, You’re the One who called me to do all this. So.”

#whosgotanattitudeproblem #raiseshand

Joy-in-a-pouch

During this time, there was one show in particular that just didn’t go well. Most of my performances these days are at schools, libraries, and camps, and this one was at a camp. Despite pulling out all my time-tested tricks to keep the attention of even the toughest audiences, these kids just weren’t interested. At all. Even though the organizers apologized and gave me all sorts of legitimate reasons for the far-less-than-stellar behavior, I took it all like a gut punch.

And despite having a perfectly excellent – dare I say “joyful” – second show immediately after the first dumpster-fire show, it was so hard for me to not carry that first show back to my hotel room.

After praying and begging and pleading for the Holy Spirit to PLEASE grow some joy in me, I unzipped my little make-up pouch that I bring to shows for touch-ups. Nothing special, I was simply getting everything ready for the next day’s shows. How many times had I had done this almost mindless action over the previous year? This unzipping and checking and rearranging and double-checking of my little make-up pouch? It seemed to be mindless again, albeit an upset kind of mindless.

This sweet little pouch with pink and purple butterflies on it was given to me by my husband’s granddaughter a few Thanksgivings ago. It’s a treasure to me. Now, no one in my husband’s family is a believer (yet!). Yet, when I looked inside for the umpteenth time – THIS time… there it was, sewn in, on the label with the brand’s logo:

“You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.” (Psalms 16:11)

I suddenly realized I had been completely focused on asking for what I thought was missing, what I thought I deserved, and what I thought I needed. I was forgetting to ask God to be with me. To allow whichever kids He wanted to see or hear something, to do so. To dance with me – and let me dance “at His right hand.”

I worked on shifting my focus to dancing “in His presence.” With each show, each rehearsal, each dance, I took the time and embraced the humility to glorify Him by acknowledging the path He “makes known to me.” And little by little, I touched His joy.

His joy. Imparted to me.

Can we talk about joy – whenever!

Just the other day, I had the most joyful, God-filled rehearsal I’d had in a long, long time. I even lost track of the time, and suddenly my husband was home, and I kept going. At dinner, I told my husband rehearsal was so much fun, and he said, “Yeah, it sounded like it!”

The difference was, when I asked God to be with me and help me put together some new choreographies for a new show, I fully released the thoughts of entitlement to joy. I even released the thoughts about how any future kids might receive the new show. I danced and worked on some dances simply to glorify God in those moments. Moments that no one would ever see. Just Him.

Moments for us to be together. Just us. In presence. Filled with joy.

That was dancing in His presence, an “eternal pleasure.” That was fruit of the Holy Spirit. I felt truly filled with His joy… not when I’m “supposed to,” but when… ever!