The year my son battled leukemia. I didn’t attend church. A hard feat as a pastor’s wife, I must say. Instead, I stayed at my son’s side, whether in the hospital or caring for him at home. After he died and I returned to church, it was a different experience for me. Gone was my freedom to minister and come alongside others as I’d been accustomed to doing all my ministry life. No longer did I feel comfortable sitting in my front pew where I felt watched. The thought of arriving first and leaving last to church, as I had done for as long as I could remember, was overwhelming. I’d have to engage and interact with people I hadn’t seen in over a year. All this combined produced panic attacks.
So, I moved from the front pew to the back, in hopes that I could avoid contact with anyone whom I might make uncomfortable in my raw grieving state. It was there, in the back pew, where I found a woman who welcomed me to sit with her. Week after week, she saved me a seat. Upon my “late” arrival, she’d get up out of the pew and allow me to slip in beside her. She didn’t do much talking. She certainly didn’t do any gawking. She simply sat at my side, provided me with Kleenex when necessary, and minded her own business—from time to time, laying her hand upon mine to assure me of her presence—singing softly in worship to our King. Her name just happened to be Joy.
So, when people asked me how I was doing I would assure them that I was doing fine. “I find Joy in the back pew of the church every Sunday.” And that was the honest truth.
Joy taught me much about joy. She too had lost someone she loved dearly, so she knew the pain of grief. She had learned the wisdom of listening more than speaking into someone else’s pain. Week by week, as I sat at her side and took comfort in her quiet, unobtrusive presence, I took notes of her behavior.
These are some of the things that I learned:
➡️ Joy does not equal happiness.
Joy is not based on circumstances. Rather, joy is a choice we make amid circumstances. While you may have to dig a little deeper to find it, given the day, it’s rich when it’s found. Genuine joy always points to Jesus.
➡️ Joy and pain can co-exist.
There we sat together every Sunday, me in my deepest pain and Joy faithfully right beside me. It was peaceful. It was right. It was the best companion my pain could have welcomed.
➡️ Joy is not a feeling, it is a “knowing.”
Joy offers a sense of God’s presence amid pain and grief. It’s a being still and knowing kind of experience (Ps. 46:10).
➡️ Joy gives us the strength to take the next step.
Joy reaches out His hand and invites us into a future one day at a time, one step at a time, one minute at a time, and one breath at a time. Joy carries us from strength to strength (Ps. 84:7-12), because the Joy of the Lord is our strength (Neh. 8:10).
➡️ Joy tells us that there is life after death.
Eternal hope and everlasting joy is ours as we recognize that the abundant life that God calls us to live begins here and now on earth, not just there and then once we enter our eternal home. “…Those the Lord has rescued will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away” (Isa. 35:10).
➡️ Joy frees us to worship God through our tears.
In my Sunday experience, Joy would sing softly and quietly in worship to our King as I wept beside her. There was something about worship that joined heaven and earth in a beautiful, heavenly harmony. “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty” (Rev. 4:8).
➡️ Joy accompanies God as He works in the deep recesses of our hearts meant only for Him.
“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans” (Rom. 8:26). He rejoices with us as we rejoice and mourns with us as we mourn (Rom. 12:15).
➡️ Joy doesn’t necessarily have answers...joy just is.
The gift of wordless understanding and quiet compassion cannot be beat. “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.’ The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord” (Lam. 3:24-26).
➡️ Joy reminds us that although the pain of loss never fully goes away it will get easier to deal with as God’s healing takes full effect.
Initially, pain feels jagged and sharp but slowly the Great Physician brings healing through the balm of joy.
➡️ Joy opens us up to new things about God we never knew.
Mourning may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning (Ps. 30:5).
➡️ Joy celebrates the ways God uses our pain to reach others.
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (2 Cor. 1:3-4).
I thank the Lord that, even amid my deepest pain, I find unspeakable joy.
For Further Study:
📖 Read:
💭 Reflect:
- When have you experienced God’s joy in the middle of pain?
- How can you offer “quiet joy” to someone who’s grieving?
- How might you choose joy—not instead of grief, but alongside it—in your current season?
🙏 Pray:
Lord, thank You that Your joy can shine even into the darkest corners of my heart. When sorrow feels heavy, lift my eyes to You—the Light who never fades. Help me to rest in Your presence and reflect that same hope and joy to others who are hurting. Amen.
