It's all GREEK to me...

Sometimes I think we are at an extreme disadvantage with English as a native language. There are just not enough words to accurately express our emotions or feelings.

Joy is one of these words that English just doesn't do justice.

I have always equated joy with happiness or excitement. It is sort of a verb/adjective - joy has always been an action word for me.

But Chara joy is something more than this. It is a sustaining feeling that is continuous and not dependent on circumstances (like happiness or gladness which are fleeting and definitely circumstantial).

Chara is what Jesus was talking about in John 15:11 when he said "my JOY will be in you and your JOY will be complete".

I want that Chara joy - that sustaining, underlying, always there in every circumstance joy. When observed in others, Chara is a glowing presence, a serenity that can't be shaken, a "knowing" that comforts just by being near. That is what I desire - that total completeness.

Sometimes I feel that I have captured glimpses or snatches of Chara...these are times of "soaring" for me; brief expanses of abandonment when I feel totally carried by the spirit. During these experiences I feel closer to God, I see Him everywhere, I wake up with a song in my head and throughout the day will feel a calm contentment with my life - and also excitement when I capture a glimpse of insight or acknowledgement that He is near. But for me, these special times are not long enough or full enough. Somehow LIFE gets in the way - distractions remove me from the center, I become "disconnected". It is a constant struggle to get back to the source and connection. Why does it have to be this way? Why must I feel incomplete?

I have always loved Isaiah 40:31 "...they will soar on whings like eagles..." this scripture so perfectly captures my soaring Chara times. Just like the eagle stretches its wings and floats on the warm air currents, so do I spread my wings and lean out to be carried by the Spirit and soar.

Soaring like an eagle gives perspective. It allows us to remove ourselves to a height that gives us access to the bigger picture - to see outside ourselves to the greater plan. It is restful, it is exhilarating, it is beautiful...but eventually it must come to an end - and generally we are left on a high precipice where we wait patiently (or maybe impatiently) for the next current.

Waiting on that precipice is the hard part. It is isolating. I can only assume that times on that ledge are meant for us to do some introspection and evaluation - to prepare for the next gliding experience.

This year Lent was a soaring experience for me and now I sit on a precipice, feeling anxious and ready to leap onto that current again...