How does joy work when you feel anything but joy-filled?
When it collides with grief and pain, trauma and hurt?
What then?
Perhaps you know Chris Tomlin’s adaptation of the well-known Christmas carol, ‘Joy to the World.’
The chorus goes something like this:
“Joy, unspeakable joy
rises in my soul…”
So then, how do you access that?
An unspeakable joy that rises in your soul, anyway?
How do you encounter joy when your soul is tinged with regret?
How do you experience joy when your perspective is soaked in sadness?
How do you find that elusive joy of Christmastime when nothing is going to plan?
When everything screams that you’d rather jump off this train as it rattles ever onward, unaffected?
When nothing is like it once was?
There’s a simple phrase that’s ringing through me in response to this heart-cry of yours and mine.
Have you heard it?
Defiant joy.
Defiant joy is the decision not to bury the hurt; not to hide the pain. It’s not about pretending to do or be something you’re not. It’s a knowing that the depth of this ache will mirror the heights of your joy. That this contrast – while it stings – gives you a fuller and deeper understanding of what joy is. Of what it can be.
Defiant joy is facing what is instead of what was, seeking the beauty of the little things while waves of grief ebb and flow.
Defiant joy is a family’s vigil at the hospital after devastating injury, choosing to acknowledge the small wins.
Defiant joy is handing over the things you cannot control, while holding on to the things that you can.
Defiant joy is waking every day to the impact of chronic illness, and still finding humour.
Defiant joy is an awareness of the gift that life is, even when it doesn’t feel that way.
Defiant joy is giving sadness permission to be present, knowing it won’t last forever.
Defiant joy is the realisation that this changes things. But that you are still held.
Defiant joy is the dew drops of water clinging to the plant that holds them.
Defiant joy is knowing that dementia is cruel, yet loving the person inside.
Defiant joy is more than a feeling; more than an impulse; it’s a war-cry.
Defiant joy is choosing to slow down even when life speeds up.
Defiant joy is knowing that there is more to this life.
That there is a hope beyond you.
And that you are never, ever alone.
Even when you feel like you are.
It’s not either-or.
It’s not only-if.
It’s not but-when.
It’s allowing for the collisions.
It’s joy-through-tears.
Because the thing is? Sometimes joy hurts.
It’s so much more than a feeling of elation and happiness.
It’s a depth of knowing. Of trusting. Of believing.
It’s full of collisions.
It’s defiant.
And this, is joy.
Perhaps it’s the last line of those lyrics that we need to tune into closely right now:
“Joy, unspeakable joy
rises in my soul
never lets me go.”
Never lets me go.
Never lets you go.
A defiant, relentless, unspeakable joy that rises in your soul through the tears, the hurt, the ache.
And when you let it? It won’t let you go.
The source of that joy is the One who came as a tiny babe,
bringing hope into that dark night,
to a messy world.
Matthew 2:10 (NLT) When they saw the star, they were filled with joy!
I’m praying that as you choose defiant joy, it will take ahold of you in a whole new way.
A rising in your soul that just won’t let you go.
Hope, regardless.
Joy, unspeakable.
Sending a hug your way.
Thankful for you,
Kristy x
Looking for a gentle way to choose joy as Christmas draws near? I invite you to download my freebie: 12 hope-soaked prompts for Advent. Amble through it at your own pace and let it be a reminder that you are not alone.
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