I've lost my joy? Where did I put it?

So really?  How does this keep happening?  Over a year ago I gave all the reasons why I didn't have time to write in my blog.  And now here I am, once again, doing the same thing.  My excuses this time include having shingles (the commercials on television are right....they ARE painful!), breaking my toe and a recent eye surgery to remove a macular pucker.  Who the heck gets a macular pucker?  Like I said last year, I feel old.  Every morning I make a conscious decision to approach the day with new energy, a good attitude and the promise of completing tasks at work that have been waiting.  And every day, all my good intentions go right down the drain. 
Someone at church hugged me the other day and said, "I've been praying for you!"  I thanked them and told them my eye surgery had gone well and they said, "No, you've lost your joy.  I'm praying that you get it back."  That hit me hard.  I know they meant very well and it was said to me following a warm hug but it still hit me.  I've lost my joy?  Maybe I have.  I'm angry a lot lately.  I'm frustrated more easily and my patience isn't what it used to be. I cried yesterday for absolutely no reason.  I wake up at two in the morning and my legs want to stretch and run in the pasture that surrounds our cabin.  I pace the floor and look out the windows, walk out onto the porch and look up at the stars.  No, I can't blame it on menopause, I've been there, done that and didn't like it.  I don't know what I'm looking for.  Maybe my joy?  I truly have no reason in the world to be un-joyful!  I have a wonderful husband, a great job, a beautiful family and precious granddaughter.  I just feel tired and restless and don't know why.  I feel like I'm pouring out more than I'm taking in.  So, maybe tomorrow will be different.  And maybe I'll wake up with a new direction and the day will actually go great and I'll find my joy.  I've laid down somewhere and can't remember where I put it.  If you borrowed it or played a part in taking it, please return it and I won't ask any questions.  And if it takes me another year to write again, I can use the excuse that I was out looking for my joy.