I like to think of myself as this girl:

I like to think of myself as young and happy with a bright future ahead of me.

Most people think of me as a happy person. They tell me that my name suits me well–I love my name, and I consider myself a happy person too–but sometimes I don’t feel joyful.

I’m a private person (sort of confusing when I have a blog, huh?). I don’t share all my feelings. If I did, people would clearly see that I’m not always smiling on the inside. My emotions are generally a roller coaster. I’m happy; I’m sad. I’m calm; I’m worried. I’m peaceful; I’m fearful. It’s an ongoing circle.

I like the way tears feel on my cheeks. I like listening to melancholy tunes. I like staring out a window at the silhouetted evening.

But I also love sunshine and crisp, autumn air.
I love the giggles of my niece and nephew and siblings.
I love happy music and laughing and celebrating life.
I love these things more.

I want to be Joy.
I want to be known by my smile.
But I’m human too, and so I struggle.

Is joy a constant state of happiness? Is it the art of smiling when you’d rather be crying? Is it a hug when you’re falling apart, and a lilting voice when the world becomes a dirge?

If it is, I can’t be that. Not all the time. I never will. Try as I must, I’ll never fully be my name.

And in admitting that, I’m content. God is joy. I’m not competing with Him.

I don’t have all the answers. I don’t do everything right. I cry sometimes. But I’m not afraid to fall on my knees and look to Heaven. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m broken inside. I’m not afraid to be honest, and tell God that I don’t understand.

I want to be Joy.
I want to trust God.

There’s a gentle peace in my heart reminding me that even when I change, Yahweh never changes. He’s always there for me.

He is my joy.
And I want to share that joy with others.