Joy Isn't a One-size Fits All

 

When your heart has been broken or even crushed, it’s hard to think about surviving a joyous holiday season. 

At  times, you may feel shamed by friends and family because you aren’t acting as joyful as they feel you

should.  After all, Christmas is such a beautiful time of the year.  Surely the twinkling lights, glowing candles,

shimmering trees, and sparkling decorations are enough to put you in the holiday spirit and fill you with joy, right? 

Or what about the gatherings and time spent with loved ones?  Aren’t they the epitome of where joy abounds?

Trying to act joyful under pressure is nearly impossible when life as you knew it was demolished in the blink of

an eye by a wrecking ball.

Trouble starts with how people define joy.  Most equate joy with happiness-fun, smiles, excitement, or a

warm-fuzzy feeling.  

In this case, joy (happiness) often results from things such as the purchase of a new car or boat, a championship

victory of a beloved sports team, the excitement of a long-awaited  promotion, a new marriage, or even the

birth of a beautiful baby.

The problem arises in that these things are all susceptible to loss. Cars and boats get old and quit working.  Teams trade players and lose their winning streaks.  Companies downsize and cut employees.  Marriages often fail.  Tragically, children can undergo horrible illnesses or even heartbreaking deaths.  

These dreadful events that happen in a broken world weaken and, in many cases, obliterate our joy (happiness).

I recently heard Elisabeth Elliot, a former missionary who suffered greatly in life, say, “Joy is not the absence of

pain.  It’s the presence of God.”  

Another description came from Kay Warren’s book, Choose Joy, which states, “Joy is the settled assurance

that God is in control of all the details of my life, the quiet confidence that ultimately everything is going to be

all right, and the determined choice to praise God in all things.” 

Neither of these definitions includes the emotions of happiness or delight.  

But they do both, indeed, have everything to do with the acknowledgement of and trust in a God who loves us

more than we can imagine.  A steadfast God who remains in control even amidst the strongest storms that leave

us buried in rubble.  

Happiness, gladness, and delight are based on circumstances that risk destruction or loss at any given moment,

while joy is rooted in our Savior who promises to walk with us, guide us, strengthen us, and comfort us.

A book I was reading recently invited me to consider a time when I felt great joy. 

Initially, I bristled.  Well, it was definitely BEFORE Dalton went to Heaven.   

If I apply the feeling of happiness version, then permeating joy only existed while Dalton was still on earth.  I

experience moments and occasions that make me feel happy.   Like when a

former student told me he wishes he was back in kindergarten so I could be his teacher again.  Or when our

daughter got accepted into pharmacy school after showing persistence and determination.  And when a friend

let me know my blog post encouraged her in a struggle she was facing.  These things make me feel happy.  But,

at the same time, I’m not happy about living without my son who had so much life ahead of him.  And the fact

that I have to endure my fourth Christmas as a bereaved parent definitely doesn’t elicit a warm, fuzzy feeling.  

Elisabeth Elliot’s description of joy echoed in my ears. Joy is the presence of God.

My mind chewed on this for a bit again.  Describe a time of great joy in your life: Definitely the days, months,

and years following Dalton’s relocation to Heaven. 

What?  How can that be?  Why am I labeling the most horrific portion of my life as the most joyous? 

This can’t be possible. Isn’t the most joyous title set aside for the holiday season and all of its wonder

and beauty? 

Technically,  the wonder and beauty of the holiday season arrived with Christ’s birth on the very first Christmas,

long before gingerbread houses, icicle lights, pre-lit garland, and stockings hanging on the mantle.  God’s

presence was made real to mankind when Jesus was placed in a manger.  And all these thousands of years

later, He is still present.  Now…..with me……as I walk through deep loss.  He promises to be close to me

and never leave me (Psalm 34:18).  A promise He hasn’t broken.

The song, “Joy to the World,” doesn’t mean Jesus came to deliver happiness to the world. Although, our

Heavenly Father does delight in seeing His children happy just as we, as earthly parents, do for our children. 

Instead, the song means the world has joy because the Lord is come. He is here.  In our presence. With us. 

God sent the Messiah to live amongst mankind, rescue us from our sins on the cross, and then leave the Holy

Spirit to dwell in us.   

If you’re suffering devastating heartache and find it hard to feel joyful this holiday season, be encouraged.  It’s

possible to experience joy even amid the sorrow.  As we suffer, our need for God’s presence intensifies.  If

we are willing, our sorrow propels us towards deeper joy (the presence of God).  I certainly need more of Him

as I learn to live without Dalton.

Our joy may not include smiling and laughing at get-togethers.  Sending Christmas cards telling everyone all of

the amazing things that happened in our family throughout the year.  Mustering up the emotional energy to

decorate a Christmas tree.  Or decorating elaborate cookies and happily delivering them to friends.

Our joy will look different from everyone else’s.  We may not always wear a smile and appear to be having fun.  In fact, our joy may even include tears because we are in awe of our faithful Father who carries us every step. And that’s okay.  Because our joy is exactly what we need to carry us through the emotionally heavy holiday season….…the presence of God.  And He is a perfect, steadfast source of joy that never runs out.