"When I behold Your heavens,
the work of Your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
what is man that You are mindful of him,
or the son of man that You care for him?"
— Psalm 8:3, 4. BSB
Every morning, as the first light filters through the curtains, I rise with a sense of joy, even though a shadow looms over me—one cast by the sword of Damocles, ever-present after a cancer diagnosis. Yet, despite this, I experience a peace and satisfaction that comes not from circumstance, but from the deeper places of life. As I rise, I embrace the quiet moments I have with my Creator, taking time to read from the Bible, pray, and reflect in silence. This sacred time is a wellspring of joy, a touchstone of stability in the face of life's uncertainties.
In those moments, I feel connected to a purpose beyond myself—a divine assurance that whatever challenges come, I am not alone. This time alone with God is my joy, a reminder that there is meaning even in the hardest days. For me, it is an anchor that keeps me grounded, a gentle whisper that life’s purpose is not defined by the trials we face but by the grace with which we respond to them.
Following this sacred time, my second source of joy is writing. Writing is my refuge and my expression, a way to channel the thoughts that arise during my moments of reflection into something tangible. I strive to focus my writing on the gentler, more positive side of life—the beauty of kindness, the warmth of human connection, and the joy of making the world a better place. In a world that often feels marred by negativity, I find solace in telling stories that inspire hope and evoke the quiet joy of simple living.
Today, my wife and I are meeting a friend from Estonia, a kindred spirit we met in Slovenia, and this prompts me to reflect on a Slovenian word that carries profound meaning: Töörõõm. This untranslatable word is a beautiful expression of joy, one that highlights the essence of fulfillment derived from meaningful work. The literal translation of Töörõõm is “work joy,” but it encompasses so much more. It refers to the satisfaction, contentment, and peace that arises when one pours themselves into a task—whether that be a job, a project, or an endeavor—with love and care.
It’s a joy born not of the end result, but from the process itself, the journey of giving your best in the service of something that matters. In many ways, this concept resonates with my own sense of ikigai, a Japanese word that means "a reason for being." It’s the convergence of what you love, what you’re good at, what the world needs, and what you can be paid for. When all these elements align, the result is not just a career or a calling, but a life lived with purpose. This idea, akin to the Slovenian Töörõõm, captures the joy that comes from living a life of meaning, a life dedicated to what is worthwhile, and a life that can find joy in every small action, no matter the outcome.
In my own life, Töörõõm manifests in many ways—through my morning routine with God, my work as a writer, and even in the quiet moments spent with loved ones. It is the joy of knowing that what I do each day, whether it’s writing a few lines, sharing a conversation, or simply being present for someone, has meaning. It’s the contentment that comes from knowing that the work, whether big or small, is done with sincerity and purpose.
As I reflect on this joy, I find that it extends beyond work. It seeps into relationships, into small acts of kindness, and into the appreciation of nature’s beauty—whether it’s the first rays of light in the morning, the sound of birds chirping outside, or the laughter shared between friends. The joy of Töörõõm is the recognition that our work, and our lives, are connected to something greater, something that transcends the mundane and the difficult.
Today, as I meet our friend from Estonia, I am reminded of how these moments of connection are part of a larger tapestry. This joy is found not in the absence of suffering, but in the presence of purpose. As we gather, share stories, and laugh, I am reminded that the moments of joy in life—those quiet, unassuming, and sometimes fleeting moments—are the ones that carry the deepest meaning. It is through these connections and these small acts of living intentionally that we find our ikigai, our reason for being.
In a world often overshadowed by fear and uncertainty, it is in the pursuit of joy through meaningful work, through connection, and through reflection, that we find our way. And, as I reflect on the joy of Töörõõm, I realize that joy is not something we seek in grand achievements or in the absence of trials. It is found in the quiet satisfaction of living a life aligned with purpose, no matter the challenges that lie ahead.