Today was one of those dreary spring days where the leaves on our oak trees are sodden with dew and students shuffle to class under a light drizzle. The humidity made me feel very sluggish, and my hair hung limp like al dente spaghetti. I belonged inside like hermit crab, yet I had to be on campus.
It wasn't a bad day, because I met with Laisha, who is resourceful, clever, a good reader of people and an easy person to converse with. She was definitely the highlight of my day. (Love you!) Yet I did feel like a fat caterpillar today, inching closer and closer to a leaf to hide under, and it reminded me of "Eternity," a poem by William Blake: He who binds to himself a joy Does the wingéd life destroy; He who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity's sunrise. I used to think that joy was bloated and short-lived, like a crest on a wave or a freshly made cookie. William Blake's interpretation of joy is that it is impossible to capture, thus, man must kiss it when it flies. He asserts that joy is ephemeral like a bug's microscopic life. A psalm written by King David paints joy in a different manner than William Blake: You reveal the path of life to me; In Your presence is abundant joy; In Your right hand are eternal pleasures. (Psalm 16:11) I'd like to believe joy isn't something to kiss, it is something to be found in His presence. Even those that struggle finding joy can find it lavishly given through His Son. Maybe William Blake hadn't experience the joy of the Lord. Also, the couch I am sitting on smells like moldy cheese and feet. Not the most delectable smell. I think the dog that lives here dwells on this couch. My nose may be buried under my shirt but my joy isn't!
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