When I think of joy, I think of Joy.
My senior year of high school, I worked at this little Christian book store, and the assistant manager was this short, plump little black woman named Joy. She was a preacher at her church, from what I understand, and she used to pray with customers all the time. She would pray at the start of her shift, and would fearlessly seek out opportunities to bring customers closer to Jesus all day long.
I spent senior year pretty lonely. I was so ready to leave, but so afraid of leaving. I was praying more than I ever had, which was great, but community for me was pretty much non-existent. The whole year was one big exciting-hold-your-breath-maybe-this-is-it! in terms of plans post-graduation– but disappointment ensued time and time again, and I fought despair hard.
Joy was there for pretty much all of it.
She pulled me out of myself, and taught me how to love beyond what I felt like. I gave Jesus permission to love through me at the start of every shift, and then inevitably, the lost and lonely and hurting would wander into our store. I learned to look past my own inadequacy, my own lack of words, of wisdom, of knowledge, and simply love.
There are very few people who affirmed me as much as Joy did. All the time, she was talking about my incredible gifts, and how I was going to change the world. Never mind that I hadn’t gotten into the missionary program that had been my plan for the last two years– she was so confident in the Father’s plan for my life, and in his faithfulness.
There was a couple times I was so upset about things going on in my life, and she would sit me down behind the counter and just let me cry, and speak truth that I was heard and seen, that the Father had a plan for my life.
She used to look me straight in the eyes and fiercely proclaim NO FEAR with such power and ferocity that shook my bones.
Oh, and this was all while Joy was battling a terminal disease.
This woman wasn’t insincere, she wasn’t perfect, and her life was not picturesque. And yet, she knew her Father was good, and she carried a lightness with her presence, so covered by His Presence. She was constantly singing, constantly aware of the Lord’s Presence and seeking to honor Him. Independent of her circumstances, she exuded a love with a depth that could not possibly come from any outside circumstance.
And that’s joy.
Being driven by Presence, being filled by Presence. It’s not saying that you’re okay to settle in whatever depravity you’re experiencing; it’s saying “yes” to wherever Jesus has you, because all of the moments of your life are dripping with His Presence.
His Presence is the key to joy, because in His Presence, there’s no heaviness. It’s as simple as this: if you’re not taking time to be in His Presence, you can’t have joy.
If you’re not taking time to enter into His Presence, you will forget who you are. Joy is a side effect of the lightness that comes from complete surrender to goodness. It’s the recognition that it’s not about you any more; that your circumstances, even your very emotions, don’t actually dictate authentic, deep, abiding joy.
When you know who you are, there’s joy. When you know who you are, it’s because you know who your Father is, because He is the only one who gives identity. When you know who you are, you can battle terminal cancer and still wake up and come into work and listen to people’s problems and sing His praises and love on His people.
When you know who you are, you give up the right to be worried about tomorrow, about next month, about next year, because you know who your Father is. You know that He cares for you, and that He provides for you.
Joy will not, cannot, co-exist with self-absorption. Joy will not co-exist with complaining. Joy will not co-exist with worry.
Do you want more authentic joy? Spend thirty minutes in prayer simply receiving His Presence, acknowledging His Presence, and thanking Him for who He is and all that He’s doing.
Thank Him for coming.
For taking on flesh and blood. For carrying it all so that you don’t have to.
The Shepherds teach us so much about joy, and they’re associated with this week of Advent. They were driven by Presence. They allowed the Presence of God to interrupt their work flow, to disrupt their entire lives, and went to pay Him homage.
Sometimes, we talk about our problems, our issues, our lack of fulfillment and joy like we have no control. Are you running to the King? Are you running to the manger, where simplicity and glory and identity are to be found?
Personally, there have been so many times this year I’ve tried to “figure it out” without Jesus. He’s an afterthought; maybe I should go pray about something, but in my laziness and pride, I have often forgotten who I am. I have forgotten that He loves me far too easily.
Go spend time with Him. That’s why He came. To steady you in the truth of His reality, of your identity; to pour out joy that comes from oneness with Him.
You need this, truly, but also? This world cannot afford for you to not be a vessel of His Presence, and to spill out joy. Do it for yourself; for the reality that He doesn’t want to use you, He wants to love through you. It’s going to affect so much more than just you.
Joy passed away a couple years ago, and I’m still beyond thankful for the role that she played in my life and bringing me closer to the Father. What a good woman.
Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. And let perseverance be perfect, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
James 1: 2-4
CAPTIVATED FREEDOM 