Ivory Joy

We were blessed to grow up near my grandparents.  We could stand on the porch and talk to them on their porch if we spoke loudly.  They were on the opposite side of the road and up a few hundred yards from us.  We made a path through the field on our side of the road so we could get to them with limited asphalt time.  Filled with red top clover, the sweet fragrance surrounding us as we walked, any flower scent takes me back to those childhood summers.
  
Wash days were one of our favorites, and if we were at their house, bonus.  Gran'ma had a wringer washing machine.  Wooden crates turned on end held washtubs set on top.  The larger ones had rinse water, the smaller some Argo starch stirred in.  The drain from the washing machine was a garden hose stretched across the yard to the fig bush.  All of this was on the front porch where we'd play until the washing finished. 

Once the laundry was hung on the line to dry, the machine unplugged and rolled back to its spot, Gran'ma would open up a nearby wooden cabinet.  Excitement took over as she passed out empty dishwashing liquid bottles, usually Ivory or Joy.  Our mission, should we choose to accept it, was to clear out the rinse water using those bottles.  Dipping into the tub and watching the bubbles rise as the water rushed in, we grinned.  Then, the gauntlet was thrown by one of us putting the top on and squirting another.  Water fight!  All was fair in fun and, there's no crying in squirt battles!  Peals of laughter and a bit of surprised squealing filled the yard as we raced around in play.

When I think of that time today, I see the white bottle with its blue and white label.  The Ivory bottle always reminded me of a bright summer sky with clouds white as snow.  Living near the Rockies now, we get snow.  The clean, pristine shine reminds me of several things, including those summer fun days of play.  The passage of Isaiah 1:18 comes to mind, "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow…"  I feel clean, renewed.

More often, I recall the yellow one with the green and red label, Joy.  It reminds me of the sunshine, of the laughter.  In vivid clarity, I replay summer days running in abandon with my siblings, unfettered delight bubbling out of us, filling us with such bliss.  Joy was so carefree and spontaneous when we were kids.  Now we get bogged down in the busyness of being an adult, placing gladness in a hidden compartment where it only comes out when the circumstances are right.   We feel weighted with responsibility and tired.  When I start feeling this way, I take a moment and remember those summers of my youth.  I pray and find the joy of the Lord is my strength, just as told in Nehemiah.  Otherwise, I'm too spent to do anything.

Joy is Jesus Others Yourself.  It is a quiet evening with praise music in the background while my pencils and crayons play with my Bible study understanding.  It is that feeling of warmth throughout my body, waiting to bubble over in luxury or to settle peacefully around me for a good night's sleep.  It is serving the Lord at church, the smiles of the children, the worship songs, the message, the 'amen' at the end of prayer.

It is not circumstantial.  It is not fleeting.  It is not spontaneous.  It is not happiness.  It is in a heart filled with love for the Lord and all His people, eager to be about His business to advance His kingdom.  Joy is that bright yellow bottle filled with the living water of Christ to be showered on others while reveling in some of it myself.  Let's play!