When Joy and Sadness Dance

I gazed out the window at the blanket of snow, perfectly smooth and untouched. It was beautiful with the moon shining down on it and the dark mountains towering in the distance like a shelter for the snow. Tomorrow morning the sun would rise again and turn those mountains pink with the morning glow before rising high in the sky to make for another warm day of winter snow skiing. But tonight, all was calm after a big meal, and my body was tired from the exertion of a play day in the powder. I snuggled up in my warm bed with a down-stuffed comforter and looked out that big window, so thankful yet feeling a pang of sadness at the same time. 

Whitney hopped in the twin bed next to mine in the loft of the mountain mansion where we were staying, and I spoke softly to her. "Do you feel spoiled here?" 

She has been climbing mountains and adventuring out in the wilderness for the past few months in mountain training school. She is used to sleeping in a sleeping bag on a pad in the middle of an ice storm with 100 kilometers per hour winds. I am used to a rather hard mattress with a sweaty sheet and bugs that sometimes crawl out in the middle of the night. Slightly different, but the same kind of different. A different that makes you feel spoiled when you come to a resort like this. 

"Yes," she said, and she looked at me with an expression that made me smile, an expression that told me she could relate. 

"Sometimes it makes me feel good...to be spoiled I guess," I added. "But sometimes it makes me feel guilty. I know guilt doesn't come from the Lord, but I can't just shake it off. I feel like it's important, like its something I need to feel." 

And it's true. Sometimes I notice all the wealth and abundance in the United States and it makes me so very thankful. Thankful that I can participate in a fun sport with my amazing family and enjoy a nice warm house with plentiful meals. I don't believe God created us for poverty but rather to enjoy abundant blessings and find joy in it all, even the smallest things. 

But sometimes I see all the same exact abundance and wealth and sense my thoughts going the seemingly totally opposite direction. Instead of feeling thankful, I feel guilty and out of place, like I would rather be living among the poor. Like I'm so used to life being hard that I don't know what to do when everything is so at-your-fingertips easy. Like I have come to love the simple life so much that so many choices seem overwhelming and unnecessary. Like I would rather have nothing and live in a close community than have everything and be disconnected and discontented by it. I don't believe God created us to be poor, but I don't think he created us for excessiveness either, and sometimes I find myself caught between the two storms. 

And sometimes those two seemingly opposite feelings can switch back and forth at the drop of a hat, and I find myself in a conversation within my own head. "Ashli, stop feeling guilty. It's okay to enjoy good things. Just be thankful!" And then in my thankfulness, I catch myself thinking of so many beautiful people I know who live in lesser conditions, and I realize I would literally be totally embarrassed to show them how most Americans live their lives and where they spend their vacations, including me. Then the conversation in my head continues, and I think, "This is ridiculous! How excessive and unfair! I can't live this way. Happiness does not come from material things but from living in relationship with God and his people." And I can't help but grieve for the injustice of the world that leaves God's people in poverty while the rest of the world doesn't know or care. And while I am sitting in a rich house with rich people doing something only the rich can afford to do. 

Its culture shock, I tell myself, the reverse kind that happens when you re-enter your home culture after a life-changing experience in a new one. That does describe me, so I could write it off as "culture shock" and move on, but I think it's more than that. It's an inward battle - a battle between joy and sadness to see which will have control of my attitude, thoughts, and emotions. 

It's like in the movie "Inside Out" where there is a control board in your head and your emotions (joy, sadness, anger, fear, and disgust) are taking turns reacting to different situations that you go through, sometimes fighting for control of your mind. I love how that cute little movie can be taken at a deeper level, and the main thing I learn by the end is that joy can't exist without sadness. The two characters in the movie are best friends. 

Maybe joy and sadness don't have to fight for the attention in my mind. Maybe, just maybe, instead of fighting, they can hold hands, and I can allow them to dance. 

Maybe I can feel joy because of the good things in my life, yet also feel sadness at the things other people lack. Not as a conflict, but as a dance. Maybe I can feel thankful for the faith and community I have found in a world of poverty, yet also grieve for the struggles they face daily. At the same time, I can feel thankful for the comfortable life of my friends and family in the U.S. while grieving the excessiveness and entitlement of American culture. 

I think it's a beautiful thing - even Biblical - this unity and mingling of joy and sadness. We rejoice in our salvation, yet are heartboken for the ones who don't yet know Jesus. We exult in the righteousness and faithfulness of God, yet weep over the sins of the world at the same time. 

Like I told Whitney on that cold moonlit night, both joy and the sadness are things we need to feel. Don't just shake them off. Let your heart rejoice in the joy of the Lord and also find his comfort in your sadness. Overflow with thankfulness and don't feel guilty when the tears overflow, too. God made us to have emotions so that those emotions draw us closer to him. May your joy lead you into praise and thanksgiving, and may your sadness lead you into deeper trust and dwelling in him. 

So I write this to explain to you the dealings of my heart, in hopes that maybe you might feel something similar. I have given my joy and sadness the freedom to not just coexist, but to hold hands. I want to feel both in their fullness because I think that's what the Father feels when he looks at us and our world. What a privilege to share in the heart of our Father as we let our joy and sadness dance.