Delight is a synonym for joy and vice versa, and yet I find a difference between them. Joy, it seems to me, is the more sustaining thing, the pleasure that can hum below the surface of many circumstances, good and bad. Delight is in the moment, in the particular.
I delight in cats.
I delight in a surprising moment in a dance.
I delight in discovering flowers in a ditch.
I delight in moments of creativity, cleverness, invention---others' and my own.
I said on day one of this season that joy is hard for me. That sustaining hum, as I called it above, escapes me regularly.
But daily, I must confess to moments---sometimes brief, as when I notice a brightly green and defiant weed growing in a crack in pavement, and sometimes a bit longer, as when I get to watch sparrows and their inscrutable bird society for any amount of time---but moments that bring me delight, particular, momentary bursts of pleasure in the world around me.
These are the moments I have called and will again call the stuff of an abundant life.
Alleluias made manifest into things I can see, even sometimes touch.