I’m currently sitting in my childhood bedroom, wrapped cozily in my old high school sweatshirt.
It’s quiet here, and the quiet is partly why I love coming home. I can breathe. I don’t have to rush from place to place, making sure I have all my ducks in a row. I read. I relax. I laugh.
The other part is that, well, it’s quiet here, and sometimes that quiet creeps in and awakens parts of my mind that I was pushing silent in the busyness. I’m forced to sit in the uncomfortableness and address these little parts of me that I’ve blatantly ignored. They’re not all bad, of course. It’s easy to push down the good when it feels like celebrations belittle others’ pain.
I think this year has taught me this. We’ve collectively suffered as a human race in a unique and painful way, and despite everyone’s views on what’s happened/happening, it pains the majority of us to see others (and ourselves) suffer.
Who am I to experience joy?
I’ve wrestled with that question a lot this year. It sounds insensitive and flippant to tell someone to “find the joy” when there’s so much hurt and so much pain in our world. And at various times, I’ve felt I have to carry the pain, the grief, the anger that our world has been experiencing.
I know. Little ol’ me thinking she can somehow manage the world’s pain.
But the truth is, while there has been a lot of pain, and I could rightly get angry over the way us humans have acted and reacted this year (and trust me, I have at various points in time), what good does worry do? What good does losing my peace do when these situations are seemingly out of my control?
Yes, of course, there is righteous anger. I wholeheartedly believe that and when used properly, righteous anger brings about good change. But spend 10 minutes on social media, and I don’t believe what you’re seeing is righteous anger. What you’re seeing is anger that breeds hostility, callousness, incorrect judgment, and ultimately, leaves no room for love.
I think because I’ve had the mentality that there is so much pain, and everyone is so angry, I’m not allowed to walk around with joy in my heart.
Which, shame on me, because as a Christian, that is simply not true.
Our Joy In Christ
Sisters, in Christ, we have been given freedom. We have been given a yoke that is easy and a burden that is light (Matthew 11:30).
The world will not see it this way. The world sees a mess that cannot be redeemed. And because of that, there is no rejoicing. There is no celebration in the peace that is to come when Christ comes again.
But, sisters, He will come again. So, let us prepare our hearts for that coming. Let us be filled with joy. Not passive joy. Joy that pushes us to reach out to those in need. Joy that encourages us to live Christian lives, serving others, fostering change, and bringing light to a dark world.
“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 in nothing.” James 1:2-4
This year has not been easy. This year has caused a lot of pain. And we have every right to feel and work through that pain. We also have the right to foster joy in our hearts.
Because joy isn’t a feeling. Joy isn’t fleeting. Joy comes from Christ.
“In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” 1 Peter 1:6-9
When I initially sat down to write this piece, I prayed, “Lord, fill me with Your words. What do you want me to say?” And I thought for sure this would be another example of how I’m working through anxiety in my life. But as the words poured out, they weren’t riddled with anxiety. No. They were words of hope and encouragement. And that shocked me, because that’s anything but what I’ve been feeling recently.
Praise be to Jesus, our Sovereign Lord, who knows our hearts and loves us beyond measure.
