Joy

I have a yellow lab named Shelby. She knows about joy. When I come home, she is waiting at the door and tail wagging, waiting for a greeting. When I wake up in the morning, her entire body wiggles as she rubs against me thrilled that I woke up.

We take her to the ocean once a year. She runs up and down the beach fetching her sandy, slobbery tennis ball with a smile spread across her wet, sandy face. She is never withholding her joy or hiding it. She is thrilled to be with us, thrilled to be playing, and thrilled to be a part of our family.

It would be odd if I greeted my family members by wiggling my but and rubbing up against them, but I bet they would know I was thrilled to see them. Shelby feels joyful just to be with her family. She doesn’t need new toys, she doesn’t need new clothes, she doesn’t need anything other than her people and she shares her joy unashamedly.

What would that look like for us? What would finding joy in my people look like? What would that do for them if I unashamedly expressed how thrilled I was that they were in the room? What would it do for them if I showed them they were all I really needed?

Joy is finding peace and acceptance in your home, with your people. It is much simpler than we tend to make it. It is welcoming, it is good morning, it is knowing they showed up one more time.