August 11 was primary voting day in my state. After dropping my six-year-old grandson off at summer school, I headed to my polling place to exercise my civic duty. It was a clear, sunny morning, and I felt good.
As I walked toward the building entrance, I encountered an older woman making her way down the walkway. Something about her was impossible to miss. She walked with a cane, hunched over, each step slow and deliberate.
As she came closer, I noticed tears on her face. I started toward her to offer my assistance.
“Hello,” I said. “Are you okay?”
She looked up at me with a half-smile and assured me that these were happy tears. She had been through a difficult season, she explained, and felt deeply grateful to be there casting her vote.
My heart burned within me as I heard and saw the gratitude in her countenance. I felt compelled to connect more deeply with her.
I asked whether she would like to pray. She said yes, but quickly added, “I don’t want to take up too much of your time. You know, you’re here to vote.”
“You’re not taking too much of my time,” I told her. “I’m on God’s time.”
Her half-smile became a full one as I helped her to a bench near the parking lot.
We sat together, and she shared a little of her story—how life had changed and how much the support of others had meant along the way.
Even still, she did not complain or wallow. She did cry, but she insisted these were tears of joy—after many, many days of crying tears of sorrow.
As she moved through that difficult season, something within her began to lift. Now, when she thinks about how far she has come, she is filled with gratitude for each step forward and for the people who have walked beside her.
With tears of my own, I prayed with her and expressed what a blessing it was to meet her and hear her story—her Joy Journey.
With support.
Those words stayed with me.
Support had helped bring her to where we were that morning: sitting together on a bench outside the building where she had just cast her vote.
It was a deep pleasure to meet her. I hope her story reminds us that joy and wholeness can spring from the depths of a grateful heart.
Her words—and her cane—also reminded me why I want to encourage, celebrate, and support others through this Journal and through JoyRestored. No one heals, grows, or recovers in a vacuum.
If you are on a pathway toward wholeness—or would like to be—there is support for your journey.
Restoration is possible.
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