Joy Rides a Harley Davidson

Essay by Jill, photo supplied by Jill.

I have been married for 6 weeks!  

As we say in Arabic, thousands of congratulations to us!!! 

الف الف الف مبروك !!!!!!!  

Five days before the wedding, I was struck down with gastro and subsequently had a panic attack, ‘How will I cope? How will I look after our overseas guests? How will I enjoy this?’. I had prayed for a joyful wedding, for guests to taste the kingdom and for community to be built. But how could I pull this off? Then the night before the wedding I cried, because I felt anxious, inadequate about being a good hostess and unsure if I ‘deserved’ this gift of marriage? But through the comfort of tears, friends and prayer, Jesus invited me to turn up and receive his good gifts. 

So, what happened? Praise God, the day of our wedding unfolded with so much beauty and joy. Kind housemates made the morning of preparation feel like a hug. We arrived at the church and were immediately surrounded by a traditional Arab band, drumming, clapping and dancing around us. It thrilled me to the bones. Then the doors opened and my mum and brother, who were able to be there after many, many, many flight debacles, walked me down the aisle. Together we beamed back at the many guests beaming with joy for us. The worship by a wonderful band of friends caught everyone up in the beauty of Jesus, and I couldn’t help being a bit ‘caro’, raising my hands, ha. My dad was far away, but his church organised a live stream viewing and he got teary-eyed watching with 100 friends (I’ve never seen him cry before). My old neighbour’s children were delightful and proud in their roles as ring bearer and flower girl, their first time in a church. I had two busloads of local friends come, dressed in their best and beaming for me, seeing, hearing and experiencing a wedding, the Jesus way. 

At the reception we had a good crack at our ‘first dance’ to an enthusiastic crowd, and my generally conservative groom delighted me mid-dance by throwing glitter at me (and we ended up going viral with a video of our dance posted online by our teacher, having 4.8M views and many joyful comments from strangers!!!). We froze in an unexpected Arctic wind during the speeches (some long and some awkward), but 99% of the guests responded with great enthusiasm on the dance floor, to a banging playlist of vintage hiphop mashed with Arab beats. A friend hauled a huge 12kg+ homemade chocolate fruit cake from her farm in Western Australia, which we cut with a sword. The next day we drove to the desert with 20 friends and family and realised my Arab wedding dream; I rode a camel in my wedding dress, sat on a Bedouin rug with my husband and friends, drank tea and worshipped on the red sand as the sun set. It was amazing. 

And yet. I confess that one of the first things I said to my new husband as we left the reception was, ‘So, what do you think went wrong? Was it ok?’. He gently responded, ‘Is this a very helpful thing to talk about?’. I replied, ‘Well, it helps my brain metabolise it so I can let it go’.

What is wrong with me?!!! I prayed for joy, I saw joy around me, I experienced joy, and yet my brain was determined to look for the danger, the criticism, the thing to chew anxiously over. I feel a bit ashamed. That even on my wildly joyful wedding day, my joy felt fragile.

I learnt from an early age to scan for what could be criticised, and focus on what to shamefully own, hide or fix, before anyone else found it. I’m also very good at empathy and deeply feeling the despair of friends who have no good earthly reason to hope. I have this deep, inner draw to pessimism. But I’ve worked hard at joy, and I’ve been pondering joy. Especially that it can feel very real, yet so fragile and fleeting. There are always things which could steal or diminish our joy. So here are some observations.

1). JOY IS REBELLIOUS. Joy has tatts and rides a Harley Davidson. But it is not foolish or naive. It is courageous, because it sometimes quivers, but steps out against the giants anyway. It learns to pivot when things aren’t working out as planned. It is a courageous act of defiance against inevitable hardship and pain, and the temptation to anxiety and despair. This is captured beautifully in Habakkuk 3:17–18.”Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food... yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Saviour.” All is ruined, yet, I choose to sing. 

2). JOY FREES ME FROM ME. I don’t think I’ve heard this said much at conferences, but it resonates with me, "Joy, not grit, is the hallmark of holy obedience. We need to be light-hearted in what we do to avoid taking ourselves too seriously. It is a cheerful revolt against self and pride." (Freedom of Simplicity, by Richard Foster). When I think about it, sometimes the things that steal my joy are ultimately about my plans being disrupted, my pride or reputation being offended or my comfort being threatened.

3). JOY DECLARES MY TRUE ALLEGIANCE. Joy unshackles me from reliance on my circumstances, and instead anchors my trust in what is unshakeable. That is, the God who is writing a very good story, which will end very well. Joy is an act of faith.  

4). JOY ISN’T A NICE SIDE QUEST (for jolly people), IT’S FUEL FOR OUR SOULS. Joy makes me strong and able to weather the storms. Joy helps me open my heart to connect with others and have community, rather than shut down and self protect. Nehemiah 8:10 says "The joy of the Lord is your strength”.

5). JOY PLAYS NO FAVOURITES. Joy does not come up in any of those personality tests, because joy is not personality-specific. It is not given by God to some personality types, and not others. Yes I know, trauma and mental illness are very real and disable our ability to experience joy. But it’s also true that joy is a fruit of the Spirit, a choice of the heart, and a habit to cultivate.

So, I’m trying to stretch my legs in joy. 

To that end, I have started a post-wedding project, to audit and collect the joy. I want to be like a golden labrador, sniffing and slobbering his way to every last morsel, searching for all the ways God answered our prayers and gave us his grace. I’ve asked friends to send me stories of what they witnessed; moments of connection, kindness, frivolity and beauty. I want to grow in being a faithful witness to God’s goodness. To write it down and marinate in it, and starve the voice of disappointment, pessimism and anxiety.

A confession. I often wake up with a mild feeling of dread, about the difficult things which could happen in the coming week. Anxiety always, always says to me, ‘Well, what could go wrong here?’. To be honest, the Spirit plopped an idea in my head, because I was writing this article. Why not imagine and pray about, ‘What could go right?’, ‘What could be beautiful?'. A fascinating idea! Intentionally infusing my brain with faith-driven hope! One of my old housemates had a tea strainer with cardamon pods and cinnamon scrolls next to the kettle, ready to pair with a budget tea bag. The infusion transformed a bitter black tea into a delicious, fragrant chai. An infusion of hope could similarly transform my anxious heart into a joyful heart. 

One of my favourite photos from our wedding is of a very proper, demure, older Arab gentleman from my local church. He’s at our reception, smiling at the camera, standing next to his lovely, modest wife, wearing a suit and tie. But what grabs your attention is a fluorescent green and purple glow stick jammed on his head, circling his receding hairline. His glasses are fogged up. The DJ’s lights illuminate his comb-over (hair) which is sticking up wildly. I remember my astonishment and delight when I saw him at the reception, enthusiastically grooving in the centre of the dance circle, amongst strangers. This is joy. Joy which is wildly rebellious, self forgetful and strengthening. He’s riding the Harley Davidson. I want more of this ride, and I’ve got my ‘L’ plates on. 

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Jill—Regular Contributor

Jill grew up in Albany, studied in Perth & Sydney but now lives with 3 beautiful girl friends in a big ugly city in the Middle East. She helps lead a team doing community health programs and works as a GP with Syrian refugees. Learning Arabic was the hardest thing she’s undertaken. In her work she’s passionate about seeing the unseen people and helping Arab woman and teenagers learn emotional literacy and their God given identity. She enjoys textures, colours, photography and laughing at ridiculous ideas. This is a big year of transitions as she’s getting married in May, to an American!