Joy sometimes comes not in the form of happiness, as I believed for so long, but out of hardship.
In Isaiah 35, Isaiah writes:
“The desert and the parched land will be glad;
the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom;
it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.”
My “desert” came in the form of a very unexpected divorce in summer 2018. Further, my ex-husband manipulated the custody situation, and I couldn’t afford a lawyer to fight him. Overnight, I lost both my marriage and full-time parenting duties, around which I had built my life. All I had was every other weekend and a dinner once a week, which wasn’t enough.
By that Christmas, I was struggling to find a way forward, both financially and emotionally. There was certainly no discernible joy – just a façade put on for the kids’ sake. Yet a simple pronouncement that morning changed everything.
“It’s okay, Mom. We don’t need a bunch of presents. We have each other.”
For months, I had worried that I would lose the kids, because I wasn’t able to provide as well as their Dad could. Their earnest declaration – yes, our little family unit was still enough for them, despite the tiny amount of gifts under the tree – jolted me back to reality. I realized that even if things had changed, our core values were still in place.
From that point forward, joy was found in the midst of our shared pain. It didn’t look like discernable cheerfulness. Instead, our joy was in the form of encouragement, comfort, and rebuilding our lives together in a new and better way, cherishing what time we did have.
God used my children that morning to remind me that joy doesn’t always mean things are good, or easy. Sometimes, it is discovered when your heart is split wide open and it feels like healing will never come.
Father, remind us to look for moments of joy, even when everything hurts. Help us remember that You are always making a way in the darkness, and that joy will always come in the morning. Thank you for walking alongside us, even when it is hard to see. Use us to be that joy, that light, for others. May our season of Advent be filled with pockets of unexpected joy – both in receiving it and in giving it. Amen.
This reflection was written by Tiffany Hays.