Joy!

by Monica

I've got that joy, joy, joy! But does the rest of the world know about it?
  I ring the doorbell and wait. Will I be able to spread the joy only Jesus can give?
  I am going in this house a normal 13-year-old girl. But when I come out, will I be completely transformed?
  A lady with a painted white face greets me at the door.
  I come inside, and Jenni takes me to get my face painted white like hers.
  The paint feels cool, hot, and itchy at the same time. I am afraid my eyes will start watering.
  "OK, I am done!" she announces after a bit.
  Jenni hands me something to wipe off the paint that accidentally got on my lips. She also holds up the mirror briefly to show me where to wipe.
  I catch a flash of my reflection in the mirror. A raccoon looking mask is all the skin you can see on my face now.
  The rest is covered by white paint, paint that is starting to cool down.

  Little Davion looks at me, his surprised look changes to horror; he lets out a cry.
  That was my first kids-being-terrified-of-you experience for the day.
  Sierra looks at me too. She smiles the cutest, biggest grin at me. Then she gives the most adorable giggle.
  That was my first kids-laugh-and-love-you experience for the day.
  Jenni goes to finish her face, and after a while she finishes mine too.
  We go and get into the outfits we had picked out earlier.
  Mine is a strange contraption, bright yellow pants attached to a black and white striped shirt. At first the pink suspenders get tangled around my legs. I pick a wig, a hat, and a pair of gigantic shoes. I go to the restroom so I can see what I look like in the mirror. While going through the kitchen the others in the household express how they feel about my costume.
  And that was my first people-crack-up-because-you-look-so-funny experience for the day.
  I open the door to the restroom, and right away I see my reflection in the mirror. Or was it mine? It didn't look like me.
  No, when I looked into the mirror I am sure it wasn't me, but Giggles, the clown.

  Bubbles the clown (former Jenni), not-named clown (Jenni's daughter Brianna) and Giggles the clown (me, former Monica), headed out to the car.
  Buckling my seat belt was interesting with that big wire hoop that went around my waist.
  That car trip was lots of fun. People would stare at us. And some even took pictures with their cell phones. We would wave and sometimes people would wave back.

  "Hi, I am Giggles the clown!" I would start, "would you like your face painted?"
  We had arrived at our destination. The New Horizons Ministries Thrift Store, where we were volunteering during the store's open house.
  "OK, what do you want? I can do a heart, a kitty, a tiger, a flower, a rainbow, a butterfly, a dragonfly . . ." This is how it normally went.

  "I think I will walk around and see if I can find any kids who want balloons," I told Bubbles.
  I started walking around the store. (Free pointer: don't grow big feet all of a sudden, you will find it extremely hard to get used to.) At a distance I saw what looked like a couple of kids, and obviously they saw me. I heard one telling the other excitingly, "look! Here comes a clown!" Then I heard a scream as one of the little girls went behind the older man, who seemed to be her dad.
  "I don't like clowns!" She cried.
  Then my nose fell off.
  (Free pointer: Don't decide on a whim that it would be nice to get a nose that will attach and detach, because usually it decides it wants to be detached.)
  I quickly picked it up and put it back on.
  "Hey I am Giggles, want a balloon?"
  Out of the 3 kids, 2 of them readily accepted, the other girl kept looking at me quite terrified, after a while she warmed up, and even wanted her face painted.
 
  Perhaps the strangest part of my time was when people who I knew very well would come and examine me, their eyes squinting in deep thought.
  "Do you know who it is?"
  "No, I can't figure it out."
  "Monica? I would have never guessed!"
  (Free pointer: Don't dress in a new outfit, people may not be able to recognize you.)

  My two-year-old sister was not sure of my makeover, I might add.
 
  Sometimes the parents seemed to get into the whole thing more than the kids did. One mom brought up her baby (who was probably like a year old or younger) to get his face painted.
  I tried doing a tiger; I got about half a whisker done before he decided he didn't want his face painted.
  "Well I guess it won't work," his mother said disappointed.
  But lo and behold she came around again.
  "I want to try one more time . . ." she told me, "I really want to see what he would look like." I began again, this time the whisker only got to be a dot.
  "Well I guess he really doesn't want it done."
  But would you believe it? She came around yet a third time.
  But when I tried again, it finally sunk in. "Well I suppose it won't work . . . thanks anyway."
  I loved painting faces. My favorite part was when I would give the kids (or the occasional adult) a little hand mirror to see the finished work, and they would smile, I loved how happy they were even though I made a million smudges and mistakes.
 
  But were their smiles only ones that would last a little while? Would they ever experience the joy that only Jesus can give us? My heart aches at the thought of them never smiling the smile only God can give.

  (Free pointer: You don't have to be a clown to share the joy of Jesus, no, I believe it only takes the love, that amazing love that God gives us that allows us to love and spread joy to others, so go ahead, smile, laugh, and spread a little joy!)

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