Infinite Joy

We are designed and created for infinite joy.  We talk about "getting to heaven," but really, what we mean is that we are invited even now to enter into eternal "Life," or participation in the eternal exchange of love between the Father and the Son, by means of the Holy Spirit.

"If you knew the Gift of God," Jesus said to the woman at the well, "you would ask Me, and I would give you, water springing up to eternal life" (Jn. 4: 10).  The "Gift of God"  -- eternal life, or eternal joy, eternal peace, eternally knowing that we are the Beloved of God.  Eternally dancing in response to His Great Love.  Eternally being created in His Image and Likeness.  Eternally growing in our capacity to know Him and to love Him, and with Him, all that He has created.

How simple it is....."you would ask Me, and I would give you!"  No "straighten up your life first, and then I will give you."  But rather, "Let Me Give You, and then, you will straighten up...."  And then you will obey Me.  And then you will receive even more life, even more joy.

What God wants from us is simply our attention -- so He can continue to pour into us His life, His goodness, His joy.  And that is the reason our attention is so in demand from the world and from the Evil One.  They, too, want our attention, and they, too, promise us joy.  And we do not know that we are being led away from the center of joy, of life, when we turn our attention toward them.

The waters of Baptism flow over us with all the promises of God toward us --  You will be mine, and I will be yours.  I will teach you and lead you, if only you will listen to Me.  And your joy no one will take from you.  Joy to see and to hear what no one on earth can see and hear, but for Me.  Joy to live and to love as God Himself lives and loves.

But we have other things to see and to hear, other things to do  -- until we have seen it all and heard it all and done it all --- and we are still hungry and thirsty for more.

I used to teach English composition to developmental students.  That means that they entered college with few skills toward success in writing.  As non-readers for the most part, they were blind to the common signals of punctuation and grammar.  Often, they did not recognize the difference in print of the ordinary words of English:  their / there; riding/ writing; your/ you're, etc.  Moreover, many of my students coming out of high school could not recognize my passion for their success -- in their experience, it was them against the teacher.  Some were expecting to fail from the outset, and therefore gave up before they had started.  They sat in class but failed to do homework, knowing it was no use -- and hoping that if they didn't cause trouble, I would pass them out of the kindness of my heart.

And always, always, I would tell them, "Stay with me, and I will get you through.  I know the way through the proficiency exam, and I know how to get you there.  I will not abandon you to your ignorance and weakness.  I will be your strength.  Stay with me until the end and do not grow discouraged."  And yet, they would often give up for lack of hope, or because other things demanded their time and attention, or because they just didn't want to persevere to the end.  And they could not see my hope for them, my desire for their success, and my great disappointment when they gave up or simply refused to accept my help.  Some never found their way into my office; nor would they stay to see me after class.  They hunched their shoulders and accepted failure as if it were their destiny in life.

But for those who stayed with me, for those who took to heart my lessons, who began to see in their writing what I saw, who gradually took on new eyes to see, they could lift their heads knowing that success would be theirs.  They were not locked into life as they had known it -- they could and would succeed not only in my class but in the next one and the one after that.  For the most part, they did not see my joy in their success, for the semester was over.  But knowing they were prepared to succeed was my greatest joy.  All they had to do for one semester was to be present, to listen, and to do whatever I told them to do.  And their lives would never be the same.

There's a lesson in here somewhere.  If we could just learn it.