Perspective: If Joy Had a Soul

By Contributed Column · Fri Nov 07 2025

by Rev. Elizabeth Rowley Hogue

If joy had a soul, it would be a living sunrise — never static, always rising. It would feel like the first breath after laughter that surprises you, warm and weightless, expanding in your chest until your ribs forget they’re bones. It would hum in a key just above silence, a vibration you sense in your teeth and the soles of your feet. Its color isn’t one shade but every shade at once, the way a prism catches light and refuses to choose.

This soul would move like a child chasing soap bubbles—light-footed, reckless with wonder, popping each moment just to watch it shimmer into the next. It would carry the scent of rain on hot pavement, the taste of bread broken in fellowship, and the sound of a song you almost remember. Touch it and your fingertips would tingle with the memory of every good thing that ever happened to you, even the ones you forgot you knew.

It wouldn’t speak in words but in sparks: the crackle of a match struck in the dark, the pop of champagne, the hush before a secret is shared. It would forgive instantly, not out of weakness but because holding grudges would weigh it down—and joy’s soul is built for flight. At its core, it would be fearless in its tenderness: reaching for your hand in a crowded room, slipping into the pause between heartbeats, reminding you that being alive is already the punchline to a joke the universe told itself.

This joy would nestle in the quiet aftermath of prayer, where doubts dissolve like mist at dawn. It would whisper through the pages of ancient texts, not as doctrine but as invitation, urging you to dance barefoot on sacred ground. Picture it weaving through a circle of open hearts, lifting voices in harmony that transcends language, fusing strangers into a tapestry of shared wonder beneath the same wide sky.

It would bloom in acts of quiet service — a hand extended to the weary traveler, a meal shared with the hungry heart — simple yet profound, nourishing the spirit as much as the body. In moments of solitude, it would sit beside you on a park bench, watching leaves surrender to autumn’s gentle pull, teaching that release is not loss but liberation. It would celebrate the divine spark in every face, mirroring the Creator’s delight in creation.

No storm could dim its radiance; it would rise stronger from the rain, painting rainbows across tear-streaked skies. Joy’s soul reminds us that faith is not a shield against sorrow but a lantern through it, illuminating paths we feared to tread. Ultimately, it calls us home to ourselves — to laugh without apology, love without reserve, and live as if each day is a resurrection. In embracing this soul, we find the eternal now, where heaven touches earth in the ordinary miracle of being – and we are never alone.

And so it is.

Rev. Elizabeth Rowley Hogue is an independent columnist for the Atascadero News and Paso Robles Press; you can email her at revelizabeth@awakeningways.org