December 17, 2019
Is it bad to say I don’t like joy?
Probably.
I have precious friends who literally have tattooed on their arms in big, bold lettering “Choose Joy.” I’ve looked at those tattoos and thought, “They must get something I don’t.”
I’ve blamed my lack of general joy on the weather, childhood trauma, and being a melancholy personality (here’s looking at you, fellow 4s!), but I am realizing that I can’t blame that anymore. I mean, joy is kinda required for believers.
When troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.
[Jesus] for the joy set before him, he endured the cross…
Joy isn’t happiness. I get that. I’ve said those sentences to others, but I still thought, “But isn’t it at least related?”
Recently, I tossed this question back and forth with my dear friend, Sarah, while on a snowy run. I relayed the story of my daughter, Gwyn, asking me why I am so sad all the time to her, and asked her about her walk with joy. “Joy isn’t happy, right?” I asked.
“I’ve heard that,” she said. “But what is it?”
As our feet padded the street, we thought of verses that speak joy. Where we landed was on 1 Thessalonians 5. Again. (See last post.)
Yes. Got it. Not helpful. (Sorry, but true.) Maybe the next verses are?
Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus (1 Thess. 5:16-18).
Huh. “Give thanks…” Gratitude. I’ve been working on that one lately. I’ve noticed—if nothing else—an uptick in eyes. I am literally looking more upward. I am seeking the small, the little, the precious things for which I can thank Jesus. It’s impacting our family . . . but is it making me joyful?
As Sarah and I crossed a snowy street, I thought of recent times perhaps I had felt joy.
“I think I experienced it this week,” I said between cold breaths. “I wasn’t smiling, but what I felt was even greater than that. Deeper. More filling.” Our six-month old son, Ellis, was writhing in pain of new teeth bursting through his soft gums. He was moaning, looking at me, asking without words, “Mom? Why? Are you doing this? Can you stop it?” All I could do was hold him and rock.
Rock and pray.
Meanwhile, I was receiving texts from a friend on behalf of another who was undergoing intense spiritual warfare over a project he was finishing. I knew the project. I cared about both of them. All I could do was hold them in my heart and rock.
Rock and pray.
But pray what? I found myself praising God. They were the only words I could grip. “Praise you, Jesus. Praise you, God,” I said over and over. My heart was calling out for this friend and for my son. “Praise you Jesus, Praise you, God.” I did this for . . . an hour? Maybe less while Ellis’ two older sisters miraculously played quietly together.
Something stirred in me as I took my praise (“be thankful in all circumstances”) to prayer (“never stop praying”).
I experienced joy (“be joyful always”).
I could have smiled, but I didn’t need to. What I experienced felt bigger than a smile. Deeper than happy. I was filled up. Filled up in the midst of suffering with my son, suffering with this friend.
Filled up with . . . joy.
Maybe we don’t start with joy. Maybe we start with gratitude—in the midst of suffering or happy circumstances. We take that gratitude to Jesus . . . and then we experience . . . joy.
I’m starting to get it . . . maybe.
I’m going to keep practicing this. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Join me?
- Respond: What do you think about this?
- Respond: Got any good joy podcasts, blogs, or you could send my way? That are deep theologically and also hopeful?
- Read: Did you read the last post on joy–when my daughter asked why I’m so sad all the time?
2 thoughts on “The Link to Joy?”