Joy or The Great Lake of Fire

Is it difficult to always be joyful, or thankful in every circumstance?  Because of my current circumstances, I am thinking about this a lot.  This morning, I can see a slight hint of my knee’s definition.  I am wrapped in ice most of the day and washing my hands in warm water feels as if I am washing them in Holy Water.  Someone should build a great cathedral for the gift of warm water.  I have had long periods where I doubt joy and thankfulness, when ache inflates my whole body as air in a balloon, my body feeling like a great glacier buried in ice water.  The point I am trying to get to is my joy in circumstances has been the gift of being an American.  We are drowning in wealth and with every passing day we sink lower and lower.  Our privilege knows no bounds, it is not white or black, rich or poor, legal or illegal.  In every case, from the person on death row (there’s not a waiting row in North Korea) to the person in the White House, our American blessings overflow.  But in most cases today, blessings have become the curse of privilege, an iron yoke around the heart dragging it to the bottom of death's great lake of fire.