If you were to ask someone to describe me, I doubt words such as "cheerful," "bubbly," or "enthusiastic" would come to mind. I am typically a rather reserved person, content with observing the people and events around me. I am usually more than happy working on my own, finding joy in my own little projects, interests, and ideas. Sometimes, however, I find myself in sharply reminded of just how important other people are to my happiness. There are times when my own joy seems to be in short supply, and I need others to help remind me of where to find it.

I remember on Christmas Eve, my mother and father invited me and my brothers to wrap presents and watch the movie Love, Actually with them for the first time, a tradition they had held together since the year they were married. I usually hate both Christmas movies and romances, so I had very low expectations for my enjoyment of the movie. However, as we gathered in the living room and began wrapping presents, throwing crumpled paper at each other, watching the people on screen fall in and out of love and celebrate such love together, I found myself genuinely enjoying the experience, warmed by the peppermint hot chocolate my little brother had made and the image of my mom and dad quoting cheesy Christmas quotes and pick-up lines at each other.

I remember my boyfriend rambling on and on about the video game level he was currently stuck at, and my mind zoning out until he finally waved his hand in front of my eyes to get my attention. As I refocused, I could see his face fall as he realized that I was not paying any attention - and beyond that, realized that I didn't care about what he was talking about. I remember a few days later while I was working on homework at his house, he finally completed the mission with a group of friends. He was so proud of himself over this video game, and I knew I would never quite understand, but I cheered for him and smiled as he pumped his fists and shouted in victory over the headset with his team.

I remember the time my dad, uncle, and grandfather convinced me to go play golf with them. I hated golf and believed it to be the most boring sport ever invented. Beyond this, I was terrible at the sport. We arrived at the course and began swinging, and I am fairly certain that my skill level decreased as the day continued. They gave me pointers on my stance and form, and I continued to be absolutely terrible while they continued to be most capable. I eventually sat out and watched as they swung and missed and added up the scores. The whole time we were at the course and later during dinner, we grumbled and laughed, joked and teased.

I know I will never be any good at golf, and to this day I stand by my opinion that it is the most boring sport ever invented. I know I will never play a video game with my boyfriend, nor will I ever suggest a romantic comedy as a movie option for anyone. But I also know that the people I love find great joy in these things, and I find great joy in seeing them happy. I know that I absorb other people's joys like a sponge, and I know that seeing other people, even complete strangers, smile and laugh and shout happily makes me happy.

I know I often hate being around other people, even people who I love, and I often find the most satisfaction from accomplishing things on my own. I am most definitely an introvert, and I am also stubborn and easily bored.

But there are also times when I cannot find any enjoyment even in drawing or writing or binging Netflix shows. It is during such times that I believe I am most able to appreciate the people who God has put in my life; even if I cannot find my own joy, I can still bask in the joys and accomplishments that they feel in regards to their own interests.

I suppose what I am trying to say here is that joy can sometimes be difficult to find. Making your own joy is not always an easy endeavor, and even the most fun activities in the world can lose their appeal to anybody. I won't pretend to know the reason or the solution, but I will say this; I know that I can find comfort in the smiles of my mother. I can find laughter in the craftiness of my father. I can find pride in the genuineness of my brother.

I can find joy in others, even when I find that I am unable to make it for myself.