How can it be so, that we might have so much sorrow and joy in the same day? In my 'day job' I have the privilege of walking with people through some incredibly difficult life circumstances, in which I can do nothing to solve their problems. Most of the time, as they're crying and talking, I'm praying as I listen. One of the great mysteries of serving people is that some of their sorrow gets transferred to me. It is a beautiful thing, in a Gethsemane kind of way. So painful, so beautiful, such a privilege.
And then, not even 15 minutes later, I'm running the daily obstacle course with Little Man on the way home from his school: follow the paint squiggles on the sidewalk, walk along the wall, slide down the signpost, climb up and over the tree stump, and back up onto another wall, then piggyback him the rest of the way home. Now we're snuggled on the couch with Little Man, and he literally couldn't be any closer to me without sitting right on my lap. He's pouring over a comic book that he can't quite read (Tiny Titans - a kids version of DC comics, GREAT for getting reluctant readers interested!). Soft Christmas music is playing, and I have a whole evening with my son ahead of me. Delight.
How can such sorrow and joy coexist in one person? I wonder, as we follow Christ, who knows both to the fullest, does our capacity for this sorrow-and-joy cocktail expand? What do you think?