Recently I came across
an essay by C.S. Lewis
in which he describes the
experience of sitting in
the darkness of a tool shed
and seeing a sunbeam pierce through
the surrounding dimness.
Looking at the sunbeam,
Lewis is able to discern its properties.
The contrast of the dark,
the particles floating
whimsically through it.
Yet, taking a step into the sunbeam,
Lewis's perspective is entirely altered.
No longer does he see a band of light,
but instead he is able to
see the source of the light,
millions of miles away.
Looking along the light
opens his eyes to the world
beyond mere floating dust particles.
So it goes with joy.
Looking straight at our experience of joy,
we break it into its dust particles.
We chalk it up to the
promotion we get at work,
the class we manage to pass,
the good news we get from home.
But what if we placed ourselves
within the beam of joy?
What if instead of looking at it,
we stepped into its brightness
and turned our eyes to look along it?
I imagine that as our eyes
turned towards the source,
we would quickly become disinterested
in the dust particles of joy.
Looking along its beam, we see the sun,
and the shiniest speck
of dust could not amount
to such a fullness of joy.
With Christ, our source of
joy, as our central focus,
we lose our desire to
cling to dust particles,
and instead we become able to bask
in the simple warmth and wholeness
of his sunbeams of joy.
