When Joy Feels Far Away: A Truth to Hold On To

True joy is not found—it is received. And in Christ, it is ours to keep.

Today, I want to explore the gift of joy—but before we can appreciate its depth, we must first understand what happens when it is missing.

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

Dr. Hans Selye, a renowned scientist, uncovered a sobering truth: stress is more than a passing discomfort—it carves its mark upon the body. His research revealed that relentless strain—whether from noise, cold, exhaustion, or fear—causes blood pressure to rise, glands to wither, and ulcers to form. In his experiments, a restrained rat became consumed by frustration, while a mouse caged beside a cat succumbed to anxiety. His conclusion was striking: frustration, anxiety, and hatred are among the most destructive forces upon the body.

But what science observes in the body, we know in the soul. Stress does not merely weigh upon the body—it crushes the heart. Life, at times, feels like a narrow cage, hemmed in by fear, frustration, and sorrow. We wake to its pressures, carry its burdens, and feel the weight upon our souls.

Life is unpredictable. One moment, everything is steady—your job fulfilling, your relationships strong, your health intact, your future bright. Then, without warning, the ground shifts: a sudden diagnosis, illness that drains your strength, a loved one in pain. A job is lost, security vanishes, a friend betrays. What once felt firm now seems fragile, and joy, once so natural, slips from our grasp.

So, we ask: Where are you, Joy? Why do you slip through our fingers when we need you most?

Proverbs 17:22 declares, “A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”

Joy, Solomon tells us, has the power to heal. It restores, revives, strengthens. Yet, not all medicines cure. Some, taken in desperation, only deepen the wound. I have seen people turn to substances, believing happiness lies at the bottom of a bottle or in the haze of a high. But these false elixirs do not heal—they hollow. They strip away life, leaving the spirit brittle and the soul parched.

The body cannot survive without strong bones. Nor can the soul thrive without joy. Without it, life becomes fragile, hollow, and dry.

Where Then Can We Find True Joy?

Not in fleeting pleasures.
Not in wealth, success, or fame.
Not in things that rust and fade.

Thanks be to God—joy is not something we must manufacture. It is not earned, nor is it lost like morning mist. Joy is a gift from heaven.

It descends like rain upon the weary soul, a sacred outpouring from the heart of the Father. It is the light that breaks through darkness, the song that rises in the night, the steady anchor when all else is adrift.

True joy is not found—it is received. And in Christ, it is ours to keep.

The Joy of the Savior

On that holy night, as the world lay in darkness, an angel’s voice shattered the silence:

“Do not be afraid. Behold, I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all people. Today, in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; He is the Messiah, the Lord.” (Luke 2:10-11)

Joy, then, is not a product of circumstance—it is the presence of Christ. It flows like living water into the hearts of those reconciled to God. But a soul estranged from its Maker is like cracked earth beneath a relentless sun. Sin, that ancient curse, drains life from within, leaving the spirit weary and dry. Guilt lays heavy upon the heart, and sorrow follows like a shadow.

But hear now the good news!

When Jesus stepped into the synagogue, unrolling the sacred scroll, He declared His mission to a world longing for deliverance:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because He has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19)

To the poor, He speaks of treasure that will not fade.
To the captives, He unlocks the chains of despair.
To the blind, He opens eyes to the light of grace.
To the oppressed, He lifts the weight and calls them free.

For this is the year of the Lord’s favor—
A dawn of mercy, a flood of grace,
The day when sorrow yields to joy,
And the broken rise, redeemed.

Yes, a crushed spirit comes from separation from God. But Jesus is the remedy. He bridges the chasm, turns mourning into dancing, and transforms sighs of despair into songs of praise.

In Him, sorrow is not the end of the story.
In Him, night gives way to morning.
In Him, gloom dissolves into everlasting joy.

Choose Joy

Photo by Xavi Cabrera on Unsplash

So, friends, when life throws its curveballs, choose joy.
Not because the road ahead is clear, but because the One who walks with you knows every twist and turn.

What feels random to us is never random to God. Every moment, every trial, every breath is woven into His perfect design.

You are not an accident.
Not a fleeting whisper of chance.
Before your parents ever dreamed of you, God knew you.
Before your first breath, He ordained your days.

Your life is not ruled by fate.
Nor driven by luck.
Even now, the breath in your lungs is sustained by His will.

Psalm 139:16-18 declares (read slowly, and let each word settle in your heart):

“You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in Your book.
Every moment was laid out
before a single day had passed.

How precious are your thoughts about me, O God!
They cannot be numbered.
I can’t even count them;
they outnumber the grains of sand.
And when I wake up, you are still with me!”

This truth transforms everything.
Your life has meaning.
Your days have purpose.
And this knowledge—this unshakable reality—is the wellspring of joy.

A Final Word

Let me close with a poem by Russell Kelfer, a reminder of the divine hands that formed you:

You are who you are for a reason.
You’re part of an intricate plan.
You’re a precious, perfect, unique design,
Called God’s special woman or man.

You look like you look for a reason.
Our God made no mistake.
He knit you together within the womb,
You’re just what He wanted to make.

The parents you had were the ones He chose,
And no matter how you may feel,
They were custom-designed with God’s plan in mind,
And they bear the Master’s seal.

No, that trauma you faced was not easy.
And God wept that it hurt you so.
But it was allowed to shape your heart,
So that into His likeness you’d grow.

You are who you are for a reason,
You’ve been formed by the Master’s rod.
You are who you are, beloved,
Because there is a God.

Peace,
Daniel