Joy-storm

It's funny how you can read something and think you know its meaning, but the way it was intended completely bypasses your brain.
Like the whole comma thing.
"We're going out to eat, Grandma!" can mean something very different, if not shocking, when the comma is absent.
"We're going out to eat Grandma!"
Hmmmm ... pretty sure Grandma would want to eat with us rather be served up for dinner.
A humourous reading, for sure.
But sometimes these little grammatical bloopers can make you pause and think.

A friend posted a simple comment on her Facebook page:
"Oh joy - storms!"

My brain interpreted this way: "Oh, joy-storms!" I thought maybe she was rejoicing in something. That she was overwhelmed with joy in that moment. A storm of joy! How beautiful! How exciting! How it made me smile. I was bubbling up inside with happiness for her, eager to find out what great things were going on in her life.

Then I read the comments from other people and realized she had been talking about the weather. Rain, thunder, and lightning storms were coming. "Oh, joy. Storms." Insert frowny face. Great. Another storm.

Ohhhhhhh ... right.

But so inspired with the idea, I decided that I'd like to be in a joy-storm.
Caught up in the whirlwind of joy.

I've actually never been a fan of storms. Thunder and lightning used to make me tremble. Heart racing, I would beg for it to end. For years, I would have dreams about tornadoes. Spinning funnels spreading out across the horizon, moving towards me. Crazy high winds? Strangely dark, ominous  clouds? Shivers and shakes! Hide me now! 

Curiosity then prompted me to search for some storms. An online search, that is. (A much safer version of storm-chasing, and the closest to that I'll ever get.)
We are all aware of the typical. The ones that make my skin tingle and my heart sink.
Thunderstorms.
Hail storms.
Tornadoes.
Hurricanes.
And then I found a new term:
Derecho.
According to Dictionary.com, this kind of storm is "a wide-spread and severe windstorm that moves rapidly along a fairly straight path and is associated with bands of rapidly moving thunderstorms."

So I decided that I want to be in a derecho of joy.
Wide-spread ~ joy comes and surrounds me, then spreads to others
Severe ~ joy that is so extreme that it moves with intensity in and through me
Rapid ~ joy that immediately hits and floods

And upon reading the word "derecho", I see the word "echo" hiding within.

So what about a joy echo?
This is an intriguing idea, moving beyond my little "derecho" of joy, my joy-storm.
This wide-spread, severe, rapid joy becomes an echo of joy.
First the derecho, then the echo.
This joy-storm moves and sweeps, quickly enveloping a person into a gust of unexplained feelings and deep knowings. Where feel-goods become heart-and-soul-stirrings.
And then the echo happens.
The joy goes out and hits others. It reflects off of them and comes back to you or begins another derecho.
This is the kind of storm we should want to be a part of.
Caught up in winds of joy. Taken upward and inward. Moving and spreading. Thunderclaps of resounding joy. Life-changing impact.

This.
This is the kind of storm I like.
It causes a fluttering in my heart that can only be described as a rainbow of smiles.
It hugs and causes me to feel loved; anchored; hopeful.
Fear has no place in this storm.

For hope is the anchor, love is the life-line, joy is the power.

Joy-storm!

Bring. It. On.