Joy feels far these days, and I don’t know exactly why. It’s like a sand dollar buried on the beach. You don’t know where it is, but you know it’s somewhere, so you keep on walking until you find it. You keep slapping your bare foot against the wet sand, hoping to feel the bulge of life beneath. And when the sun starts to set and the night breathes cool against your neck, you turn around and realize you’re miles from where you first began, still searching. Still waiting.
Joy feels like this these days. I’m fighting to make it to the end of the school year–only five and a half weeks left–but I’m tired. I’ve been poured out, and there’s nothing left to fill me. I know the answers, I can reassure the best of us with all the right verses, but it’s more than daily bread for which I’m begging.
What can we expect, Lord? How do I ask when time has stolen my voice?
a scribble of jo 
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