Happiness. . . hello?

Happiness. Putting up the hammock for the kids when they ask and listening to their screams. 

I've noticed that I'm posting a lot more on Facebook. Like, a whole lot more. Probably 10-20x more than I was posting six months ago. Why is that?
Well, I'm feeling happy. Or, my counselor would correct, happiness is not a feeling.
Fine.
I'm feeling, joy?

It feels strange. Unfamiliar. Scary.

Yep, joy feels scary to me.

I'm afraid that it's all a charade. That the other shoe is about to drop. That everything is about to go wrong again- just when I'm starting to find joy. I'm staying curious with myself about why this is scary, but I think it's partially because I'm afraid of it ending. I read a beautiful quote when I was just falling into anxiety and thought that I could will my way out of it. I think this was good advice even though I needed more help than this. I took a screenshot to save it:



My takeaway from this is that I can't keep this joy here by clinging to it. I can welcome it and I can enjoy the happiness, and I have to hold it lightly and be willing to move into the next season- aiming to do so with contentment and grace.

I'm also feeling guilty. Do I feel guilty because I don't feel like I deserve happiness? Maybe. Certainly when I think about all the people in the world whose lives are not thriving. Nothing in my life makes me think that I deserve happiness instead of them. But that's based on comparison, and I'm trying to avoid comparisons.
And it's different than that. I think I feel guilty because I feel like this joy or happiness or whatever is based on my circumstances. Life is pretty good right now. There's a phrase "this too shall pass." I've always applied that to negative or hard times, but I'm realizing that it's for the good times too. Whatever season I am in right now, it shall pass. I'm praying that I will have the character to find contentment in whatever season comes next and not just yearn back to "the good times."

I'm fearful that I will go right back to being discontent and kinda miserable, but I'm hopeful that I've grown a bit as a person. We're all storytellers, right? We tell ourselves stories about our lives to make sense and meaning out of it. One story that popped into my head was that I've come out of a chrysalis and "I'm a beautiful butterfly."  I was wrapped up real tight in my pain and my fear and my anxiety, but I have come forth changed.

That's really uncomfortable for me- to think that I've accomplished something or "arrived." As I was sitting in that, I felt the Holy Spirit sortof whisper "There will be more chrysalides*, and there will be more emergences, until the final resurrection." I'm relieved- I've made progress, yes, but this is not as good as it gets, nor do I need to pressure myself to perform a certain way. Also, I think it's appropriate to add that I can't take credit for any of this. If I were in the driver's seat, so to speak, things would have gone differently. And still: hope springs up in the unlikeliest of places. 

One final note, I'm still finding that gratitude is serving me well. When I start to feel fearful or guilty, I use that as a reminder to be grateful. Grateful for where I am and what I had to go through to get here. Grateful for the joy and the love I feel. Grateful for the recognition that even this beautiful season is not perfect, and that is good. That is real. Imperfections help me accept this season more than anything else, and I am grateful for them. 

*yes, I did have to look up the plural of chrysalis