In a broken world, where the news cycle is a spinning kaleidoscope of calamity, we need to explore and rediscover the joy of one thing.
In this shattered age, there is plenty to make us sad. There is enough to make us afraid, even panicked or despondent. Yet there is always the joy of one thing.
Lingering Traces of Eden
Many millennia pass, and for our pursuit of autonomy, God banished us from Eden. Thus, we are all in a sense homeless. We wander in exile from where we naturally belong, prodigals seeking our return to paradise or contented with lesser things.
While we, in our newly discovered fallen state, began our narcissistic pursuit of plotting against our brother, God charted another course. Instead, He began the redemptive work of restoring all things good.
He took us in as we were and began a new work among us.
God also left lingering traces of Eden within the spectacle of creation: the majesty of a maple leaf, the grandeur of the microscopic, the daily display of horizon’s hues. In these details, the larger story unfolds.
We, like Him, have the capacity to enjoy and even create beautiful things. We fill canvases with colors. Likewise, we write verses of deep poetic introspection or simple cheer. We also build marvels of progressive industry.
It is wrong to become overwhelmed by this world. Still, it is ever so right to find our unique place of limited dominion and the imperfect joy of one thing.
The Joy Artists Find in One Thing
What beauty poured out of the simple twists and configurations of Louis Armstrong’s trumpet and guttural bliss? It emerged despite his beginnings amid Crescent City poverty and racial injustice.
What anthems of praise, despite the limitations of abject human frailty, spilled from the pens of Keats, Shakespeare, Eliot and Tolkien?
Pushing back upon the darkness within, they found the light of joy in one thing.
Like so many other pieces of divine art in this world, their work pulls back the dark circumstantial curtain. As a result, superior ethereal light leaks through.
Outside the shop where I am presently writing this blog, I look through dusty windows. A blast of purple flowers sits against dark green magnolias, lighter sprawling oaks and low-lying palms.
I’m in Florida, where I can walk to water’s edge and watch the moonrise upon a darkened sea. At other times, I can watch suns set on rising rivers.
But wherever we are, something of beauty always bursts and begs notice. These are landmarks on our expedition of redemptive return.
What Adulthood Makes Us Forget
When I was young, I would risk the tops of Southern trees to gain a higher perspective.
At other times, I would lie back upon old beds of Georgia pine straw and take in constellations of clouds and stars. I peeled the tender pins from honeysuckle blossoms for one single drop of eternal sweetness.
I knew then what I am prone to forget now, with the many disadvantages of adulthood: the joy of one thing.
After languishing in the Fall for many thousands of years, Jesus entered our skin. He became intent on the joy of one thing: that He might redeem us to Himself.
He came to reconcile us with the Father and fill us with His Holy Spirit. Through that work, He came to restore us through and through, heal our blindness and correct our paths. Ultimately, He came to make us into a spectacle of grace.
And for What Purpose?
He acted in part so that we might rediscover our instinctive delight in one thing.
In doing so, He revives our capacity for stopping and noticing what He has left behind. These are hints that foreshadow all He has prepared for our glorious future in Him.
And despite what happens around us, no matter how troubling or personally disruptive, small enchantments remain.
Consider the fall of a tender snowflake. Or notice the placement of a quiet rainbow on the back end of storms.
These things always, and I mean always, tell the better and more precise story.