“Joy to the world the Lord is come
Let earth receive her king
Let every heart prepare Him room
And heaven and nature sing”
These words ring out across our churches and our shopping centres. They are grand words, a bold declaration of the place of joy in this advent season.
I must admit that I often get swept up in the words of this song, but when I honestly look at my life right now I am not in the place of a bold declaration of joy. Life is hard, people I love are hurting, the day to day ins and outs of just being a person in this world is exhausting. This kind of joy seems too big, too hard to reach for. Instead I am looking for glimmers.
Glimmers “are small moments that spark opposite emotions to triggers such as joy, peace and safety”1 and the dictionary says that a glimmer is a “faint or wavering light.” This brings to mind the diffused and flickering light of the sun through the trees, or the light of the moon on a cloudy night. The light is beautiful and always present but sometimes seems hidden.
And yet in those moments of the clouds parting, or the trees moving with the breeze the light takes on a gentleness. This feels accessible to me, simple, small moments like the dappled sunlight of joy, cloudy moonlit moments of peace. I can look for these glimmers, and notice them when they happen.
When life is hard there is power and beauty in not just naming the good but actively recalling it too. Author Brené Brown talks about the link between joy and gratitude in her book Atlas of the Heart: “gratitude predicts greater future experiences of in-the-moment joy … joy predicts greater future experiences of in-the-moment gratitude.”
In essence gratitude and joy feed on each other. So I can actively remember these glimmers at the end of the day. Putting them in a gratitude journal, or sharing them round the dinner table with my family. Moments like these can be savoured, and lingered over, they can be revisited. Noticing glimmers, accepting the peace and presence they give, being grateful, and then recalling them, allows me to experience the faint wavering light of joy. It makes me think about how Mary after the birth of Jesus “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”2
The hymn we started with does have a point, “heaven and nature sing.” In big and small ways, our natural world points us to joy. The gentle ripple of a quiet stream, or the pounding roar of the ocean. So for a simple practice today spend some time in nature, looking for glimmers, the little moments that give peace, and presence, and yes, joy. And maybe like Mary you will treasure these moments and ponder them in your heart.
Amen
https://www.ama.com.au/qld/glimmers
Luke 2:19 (NIV)