The Fog of Joy

The pastor stands in front of his congregation, challenging his married audience with the following question: "Do you profoundly enjoy each other? Or are you simply enduring?" For some, the tension in the air is palpable, couples sitting rigidly, together in proximity but miles apart. Others press their bodies closer to one another, hands already connected, shoulders now too.

For the first group, I imagine they regret coming to church this morning, the reality of their struggles ripped open and splayed about before them, exposed and gaping. It's convicting and the road ahead for those enduring is undeniably painful and uncomfortable. The Fog of Joy. This is the title of the sermon series in Ecclesiastes that our pastor has been preaching on. 

I hate fog. Simply hearing the word carries my mood down a notch. Heavy. Cold. Wet. Vague. Obscure. These are the things that come to mind when I think of fog. Where is the joy in it? 

And yet. And yet - I just love that phrase! To me, it's the lead-in for hope. That there can be hard and heavy AND YET there is joy. It is difficult to put words to but I am finding this to be so very, very true. This foggy life - we are all in it whether we like it or not - and yet there is joy. Sometimes the joy comes with patience and persistence. Or sometimes with a new lens.  

This past week, I came away from the sermon as one of those hand-holding-shoulders-touching couples. I overflowed with gratitude for the gift of a man who I could say with full confidence that I profoundly enjoyed. The joy. But then life happened and not even hours later, we misunderstood each other. And then again. And again. Miscommunication invaded and anger set in. The fog. It was thick and it settled in fast, threatening to smother the flickering joy. We disagreed. We crossed our arms and turned a stubborn shoulder, each convinced WE were the victim here. More fog. More disconnect. Distance. What started as a minor lapse in communication blew into a giant chasm with me on one side, glaring, while my husband stood on the other, dazed and bewildered. Tears, bitter words, resentment. FOG! 

And then slowly, the ice began to thaw. Warm breathes of joy. Conviction. A smile. Kisses on the neck, affection. And then spoken words of wisdom from friends: tell him why you enjoy him profoundly. Creeping joy. Next, a date. Time together, candle light. Deep questions. Curiosity expressed and interest conveyed. Joy. Reconciliation. WHOLEHEARTED joy.

Fog AND YET joy!