When Joy Is Elusive

Feelings Follow Actions

There’s a saying that you shouldn’t let feelings dictate your life. To act first, then let feelings follow. In most things, I find this to be true.

Showing up to the gym is 75% of the battle.

Not giving into the temptation to eat that brownie can override a feelings-based coping mechanism.

Tackling the hardest projects first, before rewarding yourself with a break will actually retrain your dopamine response.

And we do the things we don’t want to because they just need to be done. Because sometimes we have to push through the “I don’t wanna” no matter how little we want to do it. I’d wager that most parents — especially tired moms — feel this way.

When We Can’t Act

There are times, though, when feelings are so overwhelming we become too paralyzed to act. When forces outside our control cripple our emotions and feelings to the seeming point of no return. And we wonder when joy will return.

Easter was one of those days. It was a beautiful Sunday by Northeast Ohio standards. Our region awoke to heavy, wet snow on Thursday so the transition to a partly sunny Sunday in the low 60’s was a treat.

Religious or not, I’d venture to say we connect Easter with new beginnings. It’s the arrival of spring — the figurative stop to death and the start of life everywhere.

My husband and I spend a lot of time outdoors to enjoy these signs of life — even more now during COVID-19 and yesterday was no exception. We know of a secret, almost magical little spot tucked into the woods. Each year around this time, it blooms with a concert of daffodils, raising their royal trumpet blossoms as if to announce, “Spring has arrived!” It’s hard not to feel like royalty in the presence of such beauty.

On most days, my camera accompanies us on our photo walks. My husband, eager to take a photo of me, asked me to stand in our beautiful field of flowers. Adoringly, he cherishes my presence and thinks I’m beautiful. Although I’m the photographer, that day, I was his muse.

But I turned away. An overpowering sense of grief knocked the wind out of me. It’s funny how feelings manifest themselves physically.

There I stood, surrounded by glorious beauty, feeling a warm, summer-is-almost-here breeze wrap my body. Smelling the fragrance of blooming flowers and wet earth, fresh from the melted snow. Yet, I felt absolutely no happiness. None. In fact, I felt dead inside. Robbed of a special moment. Robbed of joy. Angry, hot tears rolled down my face.

You see, for nearly two years I’ve been very, very sick. I’m typing this post with hands covered in a painful rash due to poor digestion as a result of toxic overload. My body is overwhelmed as it endures yet another aggressive detox — this time for mold. I still can’t eat something as simple as an almond. Or a banana. I still have high amounts of lead and mercury. I’m so exhausted that most days a simple walk takes what little energy reserves I have.

I’m fighting a war for a battle I didn’t start. I’m clawing my way out of things done to me, one supplement pill at a time. This monster has eaten my finances and my dreams. And I’m stuck.

Too paralyzed to pray. Too paralyzed to praise.

That day, I felt devoid of purpose, convinced that there is no meaning to this life anymore, with no guarantees that I’d ever feel that sense of meaning again.

Release Yourself Of Action — For A Season

That day I learned that it’s ok to let go of trying to manage my feelings. It’s ok to move onto being ok with experiencing these feelings and processing them for a season. Even when we know better than to allow our little dictator feelings rule our actions, we’re often forced into a position of being incapable of action.

Our reward is being drawn to a place of rest — a season to understand that feelings are indicators of deeper connections in our lives and a catalyst for deep healing.

Despite my personal agony, despite having an emotional breakdown about every few days about my “robbed” life, I do see how God is refining the real me through this journey. He’s mining my soul and it’s terribly unpleasant. Digging into the darkest, angriest, and loneliest parts of my soul. Digging into the wounded little girl and reminding her it wasn’t her fault. Digging into the woman I am now to affirm her voice, her talents, and that it’s ok no to the things she no longer wants — because it’s all part of His design.

When joy feels elusive, it’s ok to admit that. Be there for a season (season being the keyword here) an nurture the pain through healthy actions. Therapy, journaling, meditation, laughter.

In a state of emotional and physical crisis, I don’t want act out with yet another coping mechanism — people pleasing, scrolling, reverting back to things that don’t align with my calling — all things that for the short-term gain cost me my long-term joy. So, I will embrace rest and remember to not let the “feel” dictate the truth — that that joy is elusive forever.

We are promised a hope beyond our current season. Share your story. Seek help. Journal. Be ok with this season and give your body the rest and emotional nurturing it needs.

I’m encouraged by these verses:

You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance. - Psalm 32:7

So that I may come to you with joy, by God’s will, and in your company be refreshed. -Romans 15:32