Defiant Joy

Scriptures: Isaiah 58:11, Hebrews 12:1-2, 1 Peter 1:3-9

Joy Beyond Happiness

As a child, I was taught that to be a good Christian I needed to always act happy. Even if my situation was stressful or sad, I was expected to pretend I was OK. You’ve probably encountered similar ideas. That philosophy leaves us feeling empty and alone—and has nothing to do with true joy.

God’s joy doesn’t deny reality. It’s not an opiate that numbs us to hardship. When Jesus endured the cross, he fixed his eyes on “the joy set before him” (Hebrews 12:2). Despite his agony and grief, Jesus clung to the promise of a reality unseen. Joy and sorrow flowed together in the heart of our sinless Savior.

My friend, I am here to tell you that there is a joy available to you that transcends human happiness. It’s a joy that can only be found in God. A joy that doesn’t depend upon us, or our past, or how wise or good or positive we may try to be. An inexplicable joy that shines so brightly, its rays of hope pierce our darkest nights.

But if this deep and constant joy is accessible, why don’t we experience it? Up until a few years ago, I couldn’t say for sure I’d ever felt real joy. I had escaped an abusive childhood home and was happily married with three little girls, but joy was elusive. I remember sensing its presence at my wedding or when holding my newborn baby, but just as I’d reach out to embrace joy, it slipped away like the memory of a dream.

Have you ever felt the same? What hardships, losses, or troubles make joy feel unattainable to you?

Our own human frailty, fears, and traumas can blind us to the brilliance of God’s joy. False teachers in the church, worldly philosophies, and shallow spiritual platitudes stifle, cheapen, and distract us from the joy set before us, the joy Jesus defiantly anticipated even from the cross.

Joy isn’t something we can muster up. It’s not a job we can accomplish or a chore we can check off a to-do list. God isn’t a celestial snack machine who dispenses spiritual treats in exchange for the right amount of change. The Bible never says life works that way. And as we’re going to find out, that is very good news.

God, help me to experience your joy! Not a fake happiness, but a joy that is real even when my world is dark. Amen.

Scriptures: John 11:1-44, John 16:33

This Side of Heaven

We have a perfect example in Jesus of joy and sorrow intermingling, so why do we often hear misapplied verses, like, “Count it all joy!” or “The joy of the Lord is your strength!” How can we “count it all joy” when we’re burying a loved one, battling cancer, or desperately searching for employment? And if I don’t feel joy, am I sinning?

I recently heard the testimony of a dear sister in Christ who believed that her refrigerator had remained in good working order because she had faithfully tithed for thirty years. She viewed this as a sign that God was pleased with her obedience. But what happens when her fridge finally breaks? Will she think God is displeased with her? Will she find her joy diminished?

It’s tempting to believe we have control over our lives; that if we’re good enough, smart enough, and do all the right things, we’ll be blessed, life will be easy, and we’ll be happy. It’s a lot scarier to consider that sorrow might be a normal part of Christian life, or that life will be hard no matter how well we follow Jesus. If that’s true, our joy must be rooted in something other than our circumstances.

When I hear someone imply that suffering and sorrow are signs of weak faith or sin, I point to the story of Jesus weeping at the grave of his close friend Lazarus. If the holy Son of God can cry, then clearly crying is not a sin.

Jesus didn’t die to make us happy. At least, not in this mortal fallen realm. Jesus died to redeem us from sin and secure our eternal home in Heaven with him. In that place, we will be freed from sin and suffering and know perfect joy forevermore.

Meanwhile, this side of heaven, Jesus himself tells us to expect suffering: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

God’s joy remains real, even when we cannot feel it. It’s like the sun on a rainy day—hidden behind the storm clouds of our hardship, yet fiercely shining, faithful and bright.

Lord, please bless me with peace and health in this world. But when hardships come, remind me that your joy is real, whether I can feel it or see it. Help me to have faith in the day that my joy will be complete. Amen.

Scriptures: Isaiah 40:4, Matthew 11:30, Romans 8:1-4

Letting Go of Legalism

I used to think that sorrow steals our joy; that sadness itself is what ruins our hope of happiness. But joy and sorrow can blend together, contrast each other, and reveal to us beauty even in the darkest of nights. Together, they remind us of our Savior who endured suffering for the promised joy of our company in heaven.

So what holds us back from earthly joy?

Many of us get caught in a cycle of endlessly striving. This is sometimes called legalism or works theology. The upshot is, we don’t know how to rest in the love of God. We can’t comprehend a love without any strings attached. We feel a need to earn God’s love, and this robs us of the joy he wants us to have. Like Sisyphus of Greek mythology, condemned to roll a boulder uphill for eternity, we push our boulder of good works up, up, up, until we slip or lose our grip. Inevitably it rolls back down, leaving us feeling like failures.

But recognizing our pattern of false thinking has an odd way of freeing us from it. It’s like looking down and seeing your shoe untied. Well, no wonder you kept tripping! Unlike family and friends who may let you down or drift away, God loves you perfectly, faithfully, and forever. He is Love itself (1 John 4:8). It’s his very nature to treasure his children and be merciful to us.

If we’re rolling that boulder of legalism uphill, we can’t see around it to the top of the mountain. The joy of the Lord and the beauty of heaven are hidden from sight. Thankfully, as Matthew 28 tells us, we are no longer condemned to struggle behind a stone. An angel of the Lord has rolled the stone away! Jesus is risen! He walked out of the tomb in defiance of death, in defiance of evil, and in defiant joy. And because of his goodness, so can we. Not only has our stone been rolled away, but he’s made the mountain smooth and level (Isaiah 40:4). Our path is no longer an uphill battle. The law can no longer condemn (Romans 8:1). The boulder can no longer imprison. We can let it go, step out from behind it, and into the glorious light of grace.

God, you love me with no strings attached! Help me to not only know this in my mind, but feel it in my heart, and live out this beautiful truth every day. Amen.

Scriptures: Ephesians 2:8-9, Hebrews 12:2, James 4:8

The Gift of Faith

During my teens and early twenties, I’d lay awake at night worrying if the reason that I had no joy was because I had no faith. And if I had no faith, did God really love me? The harder I tried to muster up faith and joy, the more depressed and frustrated I became.

If you’re in a valley of the shadow right now (Psalm 23:4), weeping in the darkness, desperate for a drop of faith, know that your faith is in far more capable hands than your own.

I know dear Christians who believe that unless they can work up enough faith to move a mountain, cure terminal cancer, or bring a child back from the dead, their faith must not be good enough for Jesus.

This misconception renders us immune to joy. If we believe our faith isn’t good enough for Jesus, how can we ever be happy? If God is the kind of Father who would withhold blessings, health, or even life because we failed to measure up, how can we ever feel forgiven?

The Bible shows us that faith, like joy, isn’t something you can fabricate. Paul tells us, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and [faith] is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works that no one can boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9). In Hebrews we read that Jesus is the founder and perfecter of faith (Hebrews 12:2).

Faith is not from you. It’s a birthday present to you from God. It was given to you the moment you were born again. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of your faith, but it does mean that faith is something you can’t produce on your own and aren’t expected to.

It was Jesus who softened your heart and lead you to trust in him. It was Jesus who gave you the courage and faith to seek him out. Take heart! Be defiantly joyful! Because in your darkest moments—when you’re hemorrhaging fear, wrecked by abandonment, and even despairing of life itself—He is drawing you close, planting seeds of faith in your heart, because he loves you.

Lord, draw near to me today, even when I don’t feel I can draw near to you. Plant faith in my heart and let me feel your presence! Amen.

Scriptures: John 16:22, James 1:1-12, Revelation 21:1-4

No More Tears

The book of Revelation tells us: “‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4).

Someday, death itself will die. We will no longer grieve evil because God will eliminate it. Not only will he remove our guilt, but he will wash away our trauma and shame.

James, a disciple of Jesus, writes, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing” (James 1:2-4).

But James doesn’t say, “Feel joy right now.” He says, “Count it all joy.” That means count on joy, be assured of joy, and remember that joy is just around the corner. While the Spirit will work steadfastness in us throughout our lives, it will never reach full effect until Christ returns or we go home to him. “Blessed is the one who perseveres,” James concludes, because they “will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him” (James 1:12). In that place, we will be perfect, complete, and lacking nothing.

This anticipation of joy, this expectation of heaven, gives us comfort in the here and now. Like a weary traveler, we can walk a little farther knowing that a safe bed and a hot meal are just a little farther up the road. Like a wounded soldier on the battlefield, we can hang in there, knowing that war is over, victory is secured, and our Rescuer is on his way.

Jesus himself promises, “You have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (John 16:22).

When will our hearts rejoice? When we see Jesus again! He assures us that though we have sorrow now, we’ll experience eternal joy later. We’ll shed tears now but laugh later. We’ll miss him now, but there’s a celestial celebration coming when we’ll be united with him forever.

Lord, you will one day wipe away every tear from my eyes. Even in the darkest times, I live with this hope! Amen.