My Joy is beauty. I hesitate to use the word beautiful as it seems overused. There is a beauty about her that permeates her surroundings. It is a beauty that encourages you to come closer, to touch her, to see what is in her that you are missing. It is a beauty that is healing. Her words, her touch, her voice are soothing to the soul. It is the inner beauty that makes her so physically appealing. She is stunning, but her heart and spirit is what draws you into her.
Joy is a servant. She has a servant’s heart that fulfills the need, whatever it may be. If she sees someone in need, she will most likely go out of her way to do what needs to be done. It is just the way she is. Some even question her intentions, believing that she must either be crazy or have an ulterior motive. But she doesn’t. She just lives to serve.
Joy is passionate. When she loves, she loves deeply. When she hurts, she hurts deeply. Her emotions sometimes get the best of her, but her emotions are also one of her gifts. For when she listens, you can see the love and care in her eyes. She mourns when others mourn. She rejoices when others rejoice.
I love Joy with all that is in me. I tell her how much I love her. I tell her that I will take care of her. I tell her that I will never leave her. I remind her that I know everything about her and still don’t love her any less. I speak to her of all the things I love about her. I speak encouraging words to her and tell her how beautiful she is. I remind her of how much I love to spend time with her and miss her when we don’t get time together. I wait patiently for her to call me, to say my name, to ask me to spend time with her.
My Joy, she has this dream. She has this dream of feeling beautiful. She wants to be cherished. She wants to be loved. But, my Joy is waiting for a man, more specifically a husband, to validate that she is beautiful, that she is cherished and that she is loved.
I am not enough.
