Joy and Peace: Harder Than You’d Think
ALL SHALL BE WELL
AND ALL MANNER OF THING SHALL BE WELL.
—Julian of Norwich
I’ve been talking with God this month about Joy and Peace—two gifts I have trouble receiving and keeping. Infuriatingly, Joy seems to be my “word for the year,” and I cannot escape it no matter how hard I’ve tried to choose a more nuanced word that leaves room for the full spectrum of emotions like “begin” “illumine” or “sojourn”—all worthy candidates lovingly shot down by the Spirit each time I get a text from someone that says “Joy!” (my dad sent this text to me yesterday, along with a picture of my smiling face), or the picture of a gift mug Drew sent me while on a ministry trip this week that also reads “Joy!” Neither my dad nor Drew know how deeply I’ve been wrestling with this word, wanting to live into any other word but joy this year.
One reason I feel grumpy about Joy choosing me as its stubborn candidate is because joy seems overly simplistic—don’t I already know enough about joy to know it’s really hard for me, and therefore I had best focus my efforts elsewhere? I haven’t got the “Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy” or “The Peace that passes understanding deep down in my heart to stay” as that horribly chipper Sunday school song goes. The chorus of that song reveals another reason I am reticent to embrace joy: “And I’m so happy, so very happy; I’ve got the love of Jesus in my heart.” If I’m not “so very happy,” does that mean I’ve not got the love of Jesus in my heart? I feel and experience things so deeply that happiness often seems like a star just out of reach. When I shared my ongoing struggle with depression with a trusted church elder, he kindly pointed out that I seem to “Over-analyze….” “Literally everything” (I finished the sentence for him) before he encouraged me to keep going, to keep writing, to keep not letting depression have the final word with a graciousness that left me with tears in my eyes.
The truth is, joy terrifies me. So does peace. As someone who has experienced trauma on multiple levels, I’m afraid that if I let my guard down long enough to dwell fully in joy and peace, the other shoe will ultimately drop and I will be left out in the cold again—hurting and betrayed by the false promise of safety. This, I know, is a lie. But it is a very convincing lie, this hypervigilance that tells me to be prepared for pain at any moment. In actuality, it is the same lie that tore the world apart in the very beginning. When the snake told Eve and Adam that they’d better eat the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, he was essentially promising them that hypervigilance—grasping for all knowledge of what could possibly go wrong instead of trusting God’s protection and provision—would bring them greater security. And they fell for it, just like I’ve fallen for it.
No wonder Jesus tells us that the way to the Kingdom is to become like a child, like one who hasn’t learned to put their guard up yet. Like one who has not scorned joy and peace as unsafe or false promises. Deep down—deeper than the protective armor of eye rolls and annoyance I’ve adopted—I’m glad God is inviting me to learn what joy and peace really mean this year. Still scared, but secretly hopeful. In my short-lived foray into the spiritual world of Joy and her sister Peace, I’ve begun to suspect that joy is much more spacious than happiness, and peace is far richer than the absence of anxiety and worry. The love of Jesus that’s in my heart has room for all of me—not just the happy shiny parts. God has been patient and kind as I grapple with my angel for a blessing. . .for joy and peace to become part of the New Name God is writing for me. I’ve been writing what I sense God has been showing me about joy and peace thus far in my journal. I’m sharing it here with a bit of hesitance, but also hope. It occurs to me that there are others who might be wrestling in the dark for a blessing, too.
In the safety of the Spirit’s embrace, may you receive as gift the words that are for you and release the ones that are not. May the joy and fellowship of the Spirit and the peace which is greater than knowledge be yours, today and always. Amen.
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Joy is not a false cheerfulness, although a bright and happy spirit is one fruit of joy.
Joy is the deep and abiding sense that all is well because I am with you always, along with the assurance that all will be well because this life is not the end.
My Story is beautiful, and any pain, devastation, and death experienced here on earth does not tell the whole tale.
Dare to believe that I make all things beautiful in their time—that I am making and will make all things new.
Peace I leave with you; my Peace I give you.
So trust me, though hope feels small.
My hope is a gift that will not disappoint.
My Peace is not elusive.
You don’t have to have it all figured out.
One step, one word, one day at a time.
Peace, peace, peace to you.
Peace over all that is unsolved and unresolved in your heart.
Peace over the frayed edges and jagged pieces of your past.
Peace over the waves you fear will take you under.
Peace over desire and unfulfilled longing.
Bring it all to rest. Find all in Me.
Do not worry; do not doubt; only believe.
I love you.
Going Deeper: Listen to Hold Me Jesus by Rich Mullins. It is pure gift.
And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It’s so hot inside my soul, I swear there must be blisters on my heart
So hold me Jesus, ’cause I’m shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won’t You be my Prince of Peace