Are you there?

Yes, we are here.

Today, I would like to do something a little different. Given that we are in the midst of the holiday season, I had planned on having a conversation with all of you about how to cope with the various mental and emotional issues that often arise during the holiday season. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought it would be much more uplifting to share a small, inspirational story. Do you approve?

Yes, indeed.

This story I would like to share is one I came across years ago when I was writing the company newsletter at my old job. Each year during holiday season, I would include a segment in the newsletter that captured the spirit of the season, and no tale that I have come across does that any better than this excerpt from “The Return of the Prodigal Son,” by Henri J. M. Nouwen:

“I am not accustomed to rejoicing in things that are small, hidden, and scarcely noticed by the people around me. I am generally ready and prepared to receive bad news, to read about wars, violence, and crimes, and to witness conflict and disarray. I always expect my visitors to talk about their problems and pain, their setbacks and disappointments, their depressions and their anguish. Somehow, I have become accustomed to living with sadness, and so have lost the eyes to see the joy and the ears to hear the gladness that belongs to God and which is to be found in the hidden corners of the world.

“I have a friend who is so deeply connected with God that he can see joy where I expect only sadness. He travels much and meets countless people. When he returns home, I always expect him to tell me about the difficult economic situation of the countries he visited, about the great injustices he heard about, and the pain he has seen. But even though he is very aware of the great upheaval of the world, he seldom speaks of it. When he shares his experiences, he tells about the hidden joys he has discovered. He tells about a man, a woman, or a child who brought him hope or peace. He tells about little groups of people who are faithful to each other in the midst of all the turmoil. He tells about the small wonders of God. At times I realize that I am disappointed because I want to hear ‘newspaper news,’ exciting and exhilarating stories that can be talked about among friends. But he never responds to my need for sensationalism. He keeps saying: ‘I saw something very small and very beautiful, something that gave me much joy.’

“This is a real discipline. It requires choosing for the light even when there is much darkness to frighten me, choosing for life even when the forces of death are so visible, and choosing for the truth even when I am surrounded with lies. I am tempted to be so impressed by the obvious sadness of the human condition that I no longer claim the joy manifesting itself in many small but very real ways. The reward of choosing joy is joy itself. Living among people with mental disabilities has convinced me of that. There is so much rejection, pain, and woundedness among us, but once you choose to claim the joy hidden in the midst of all suffering, life becomes celebration. Joy never denies the sadness, but transforms it to a fertile soil for more joy.”

That’s a beautiful story, don’t you think?

We do. And we are sure that our readers will find it very inspirational.

I think so, too. Next time, we will do another holiday posting, with an excerpt from the stories of Charles Dickens. In the meantime…

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!!!

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