The joy of Jerusalem was heard far away. The people have finally returned to Jerusalem and the Temple, and they celebrate. The author even points out that the women and children celebrate, and their joyous celebration was heard far away. That idea makes me smile, of hearing other people’s joy carrying through the air.
And this was not a people without strife, as they’d just recently returned from captivity in Babylon. And still they celebrate. Their celebration wasn’t because their world had somehow become trouble-free, and perhaps the joy was even greater because of their woes.
I’m reminded of the practice of gratitude. There’s a new craze of gratitude journals where you capture something good about the day, every day. Or there are morning practices that include noticing gratitude. At one time in my busier days, I had a planning notebook that included pages for noting what was happening every day, week, and two different month formats. On one of the month calendars, I simply jotted a few words in (nearly) every day of things I was grateful that day. The practice forced me to seek and find the joy in the day, even if it was otherwise a crummy day. I also really enjoyed looking back at the month and remembering the momentary joys, all captured on one page.
When I pause to find something to be grateful about, only then can I celebrate. And those are little celebrations that happen throughout the day, and flow naturally from the observed and intentional gratitude. This morning’s walk included a walk around a large man-made pond that several duck families call home. One family originally included 3 ducklings. Over the past week, there’s only one duckling left. But today, the mama duck was sitting on the side, and I didn’t see the duckling. But as I passed her within 3’, she ruffled her feathers, and there was the baby duck tucked safely under her wing. I was grateful, and did a little happy dance. My own mini-celebration.
And for me, these little celebrations teach me something about larger celebrations, whether they’re holidays, or social gatherings or parties. Without first making space to intentionally be grateful about something, even a big shindig can be lifeless. No happy dance. There have been plenty of parties where I’m definitely not feeling the festivities. The party itself was fine – all the right people and causes. What was missing was my sense of gratitude. That’s what makes me want to celebrate.
This morning, I’m thinking about the relationship between gratitude and celebration. I think you can’t really celebrate without first being intentionally grateful. And I think the reverse should be true. For every time I find something for which I’m grateful, I ought to find my own way to celebrate. Even if it’s a happy dance at the pond.
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