“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.” Luke 2:10 NIV
Great joy, huh? That sounds nice, but I’ll admit this has been the hardest Advent reflection for me so far. This year hasn’t been filled with joy, at least, not for me. To make things worse, people are quick to tell me all the things I should be grateful for or offer easy solutions for my problems, which only reminds me that what I long for is vastly different than the things that would bring them joy.
One of my deepest desires is to do life and ministry with people, and yet, every time it seems I’m getting close to reaching that dream, something changes, and I’m back to square one. And so, I struggle with God, wondering why he would put something so strongly on my heart, and then deny it over and over again. And yes, I know that I am never alone, that he always provides people on the other side, but why do I always get sent alone? Despite what I am frequently told, I don’t believe marriage or family is the only option for a partnership—I’ve had roommates and pastors who I hoped were in this with me for the long haul—but those relationships have always reached their expiration date, and I’m back to asking God what is next for me…never for us.
I’ve found comfort, however, in unexpected places this year. The first is the stories of Catholic priests. God called them to give up everything, renouncing marriage, sending them to wherever he wished them to minister. They are also sent alone, finding people to serve with when they arrive and being a blessing to others in the places that God leads them. They don’t claim that their lives are easy, but they demonstrate that it’s possible to live a good, even joy-filled, life. And maybe mine will bring that kind of blessing to others too. I hope for that. So to those who God has also called to go alone, thank you for your sacrifice and reminding me that it is good.
The second is a story that I often forget about until I revisit it at Christmastime. Zechariah and Elizabeth didn’t have the life they dreamed of either, and yet they remained righteous and faithful. Zechariah was even chosen to enter the Holy of holies and stand in God’s presence. When the angel first announced to Zechariah that his wife would have a son, he promised that the boy would be a joy to them and that many would rejoice at his birth (Luke 1:14 NIV). To a couple who had been praying for a long time and had probably given up on their desire to one day have children, the birth of a child would most certainly bring them joy. And although I’m sure their life still looked nothing like they had expected, it was good. God’s gifts are always good, even when they aren’t what we hoped for.
I don’t think God has ever done what I expected. He rarely gives me what I ask for or hope for either. And sometimes, I think it would be easy to give up. To say, “You’re taking too long!” or “What is so wrong with my dreams and my plans?” (Well, I do actually ask him that quite frequently.) Or even to quit when it feels unbearably hard and lonely. I mean, I clearly don’t understand him or any of his ways, even after following him for as long as I have. But something I’m learning about joy is that it shows up in unexpected places—often in the midst of pain—bringing the promise of something better. Maybe if God did what I expected or gave me what I asked for, I wouldn’t be able to see joy for what it is.
When the angel appeared to the shepherds, after the obligatory “Don’t be afraid,” he told them he had “good news that will cause great joy for all the people” (Luke 2:10 NIV). I guarantee they were not expecting this joyful news to be the birth of a baby. And throughout Jesus’ life and ministry, God continued to not do what people expected or asked for. They wanted to be set free from Rome. But if God had done what they wanted, it would have been a momentary triumph for a certain people at a certain time. And that’s not what the angels said. They claimed that this great joy will be for all the people.
Isaiah prophesied that Jesus would “proclaim good news to the poor…to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair” (Isaiah 61:1-3 NIV). These promises are so much more than what they or we could ever have hoped for.
I’m not an expert in joy. And this year hasn’t been one filled with joy, at least not for me. But that’s okay. Because the great joy that God promised doesn’t rely on my temporary struggles.
“In a world where joy is often fleeting, don't forget to look for opportunities to celebrate any and every chance you get. And above all, celebrate the birth of the Savior, a God who loved so much that he was willing to give his only Son to be our salvation, and that, one day, we may together enter the Great Celebration where our joy will finally last forever.” Sara Lawson, January 20, 2013, Facebook post
If, like me, you have struggled to find joy this season, know that God has not forgotten you. Perhaps our seasons of grief and disappointment only help us appreciate joy that much more when it finally comes our way. So stay faithful. The angel’s promise of great joy for all the people is still for me. And it’s for you too.
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