Joy in the Stagnant

Words are interesting. They tell stories. They prompt thoughtfulness. They hurt and they encourage.
Sometimes words are so impressed on our hearts that they won't let us go unchanged.
As I've said before, one day, God gave me the word JOY.
It was a word that wouldn't release me.
It held fast and embedded inside so that I couldn't shake it.

It still holds me captive, and I'm okay with that.
It's a quiet reminder that through the irritable, unpleasant, annoying, and hurtful stuff in life that there can be JOY.
It's a driving force that sometimes shouts at me, a pressing reminder that I shouldn't try to escape it's hold.

The other day, another word grasped my attention.
This word wasn't as pleasant.
This word puzzled me.
This word seemed to counter my JOY word.

STAGNANT.

And it kept coming at me.

STAGNANT.

Yet, JOY continued to speak.

It was like a duel going on in my head.
How could JOY be in the same space as STAGNANT?
How could they co-exist?

Stagnant isn't a nice word. It is often used in reference to a pond. A stinky, life-deprived body of water where only unpleasant creatures thrive.

Well.
Where's the JOY in that?
There is none.
That is why JOY continues to gently prod.
JOY continues to poke through the slime, and the stench.
It counters the stagnant, and brings life. 
It breaks through the dormant surface and causes ripples.
The stirring on the surface begins to charge upwards, till it explodes with passion, with hope.
And then there is a fountain.
A fountain of living water, pouring out, flowing through.
A refreshing spray.
A breath of newness.

And so, here I stand ...
I am with arms spread out, eyes closed, total abandon, wind in the hair, fountain-spray on my face, ready for life's breath.
Out of the stagnant, into the vibrant.