I form the letters on the side of the glass jar, drawing out the glitter glue which, I’m told, is expensive. “Don’t waste it. Make it last.”

J – O – Y

Scant. See-through. I have scraped the open end of the tube along, pulling the golden glitter into streaks and smears. Dismal.

This is not how joy should be. It should be generous and bold and full of dimension.

I set the tube on its side and work the glitter to the tip, rolling and squeezing and kneading it forward. I fill in the scant spaces and re-trace the meager lines. I even dot the j!

There now.

J-O-Y

God did not just sketch or etch the plan for our lives. He did not just leave instructions or a forwarding address. He didn’t skimp on the materials or stretch them thin in order to make them last. He laid down His life – his very blood – that we might see clearly.