Ode To Joy

The firework stands are open and I've seen more red, white, and blue apparel today than I have in a month, all clear evidence to me of the impending holiday,

Joy Bilyeu's Birthday.

It seems so appropriate that Joy was born on July 4, 1970. The firstborn of Hosea & Debbie Bilyeu with fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes. Joy is a force of nature to me.

Her voice. A LOT of people have heard Joy Bilyeu perform. Between her 18 years in Branson, multiple international and national television appearances, and even her gospel forays with the Hosea Bilyeu Family, Joy has performed for millions. But none of that really matters to me.

What matters is when she hits her zone. It could be in the studio, on the stage, at church or in our living room at the piano. Joy's great, but she can transcend. You can hear it, you can even see it. The hair on my arms raises when it happens. Joy's voice is a gift.

Her laugh. If you are in even moderate range when Joy laughs, you will know it. Her laugh comes from somewhere deep. Joy feels deeply. This includes, well, joy. I often say she has the sense of humor of a 12-year-old boy, another gift from her maternal grandfather, Bill Mabe, but that's just part of it. She takes joy in other people's happiness as well. She takes joy in sunny days, literally singing like a child through the house, "Thank you God for this sunshine....it makes me HAAAAAAPPPPPYYY". Her laugh is infectious, sometimes annoying when it comes at the wrong time, and never subtle.

Actually, I would say if there is a word I would never use for Joy, it is subtle. You know if she's happy, frustrated, sad, immediately. Some people may suggest that is not good. I would suggest that Joy is honest like no one else I know.

Her heart. Joy's heart. It gives me pause just writing that line. Her heart seems like deep waters. You can get lost in it. I said she feels deeply, and it isn't just the joy of the people around her. She is so empathetic reading headlines causes her physical pain. She weeps for the world on a daily basis. Thank God she doesn't abide there, but moves to seeking out the good in a natural move that buoys her heart.

Joy elevates a room when she enters. The most radiant thing about her is not her red hair, it's her heart. To interact with her is an honest exchange that can seem rare in this cynical world, and this is why tours love her, service personnel for the theatre seek her out to talk, even if they have no reason to. Staff love the way she leads in her self-deprecating but earnest approach to make every day an adventure.

And for me, Joy makes life make sense. She allows me to swing at bad pitches and cheers for me when I totally miss. She is patient beyond words. She builds me up even as I clearly decline. Joy is Joy, and I believe we are all better for it.

So...Happy Birthday Joy Bilyeu-Steele. Fireworks lighting the sky, the full heat of summer on display, savoring food and family - it all seems appropriate that the whole country should take pause. They think it's for the birth of a nation. I say it's for the birth of a national treasure.

I sure do.

g