Day 39

No one will take away your joy

To Start

Be silent with God. Imagine He’s holding your hand.

Pray

Yahweh, keep Your promises. Turn our sorrow to joy. Let Your presence be our joy. Don’t let anyone take our joy from us. We know You won’t.

Read

Read John 16:19-22.

As you read, consider…

• What do you feel when you read the line, “Jesus knew they wanted to ask him”? Who is Jesus as revealed in this passage? What does He feel toward the apostles?

• Why does Jesus use the word “truly” in verse 20? Surely everything He’s saying is true.

• Does Jesus judge the apostles for their coming grief? Is it wrong for them to weep and mourn?

Read verse 22 three times:

1. The first time you read it, try to understand it with your mind. Summarize it in your own words. What exactly is Jesus promising?

2. The second time, try to understand it with your heart. How do you feel after you read these words.

3. The third time, don’t try to understand it. Read it and then sit in silence for two minutes.

This is one of those verses I’d write on an index card and carry around.

John 16:19-22 (CSB)

¹⁹ Jesus knew they wanted to ask him, and so he said to them, “Are you asking one another about what I said, ‘In a little while, you will not see me; again in a little while, you will see me’? ²⁰ Truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice. You will become sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn to joy. ²¹ When a woman is in labor, she has pain because her time has come. But when she has given birth to a child, she no longer remembers the suffering because of the joy that a person has been born into the world. ²² So you also have sorrow now. But I will see you again. Your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy from you.”

From JL

I’ve tried to write about this passage three times now, and every time I try to write I cry.

So you also have sorrow now. But I will see you again…

No one will take away your joy from you.

I’ve had a lot of sorrow.

And I’ve had a lot of Jesus.

And this joy, the joy of dwelling with Him, it’s the dynamo of my life.

Knowing that no one can ever take it away?

Crying again…

-

My daughter Eve’s friends are terrified of childbirth. Truly. They talk about it all the time. They list it as a top reason they might not have kids.

I shake my head. “That’s crazy,” I say. Eve says, “What’s crazy?” And I say, “Being a teenage girl and worrying about the pain of childbirth.” She says, “Why is that crazy? Everybody says it’s the worst pain imaginable.” I say, “Who cares?”

She is perplexed at my being perplexed.

I say, “Yeah, it’s terrible. I labored for 19 hours with London—water broke but she wouldn’t budge. They gave me terrible drugs that increased the pain and made me hallucinate. But then, eventually, I had a baby. I had you naturally after a long night convinced I was dying of constipation. But then, same magic, a baby! And the baby grows up to be a whole person. Are you saying adding a human being to the created world isn’t worth 24 hours or less (rarely more) of excruciating pain?”

She makes a face like she’s thinking about it.

“Eve Gerhardt,” I say. “You are my great joy. You are a vessel of the presence of God. You are extraordinary. You are worth it—whatever “it” is.”

We had this conversation three days ago. When I read today’s text I thought of these two girls of mine, both growing up and leaving home. I have never been as aware as I am today of the deep joy of having them in my home. Jesus was right—I can barely remember the pain.

Maybe one of the reasons these verses are affecting me like they are is that I’m dealing with the grief of my joys “being taken” from me. That’s a wild exaggeration, sure. They aren’t dead. One lives on a boat in the Straits of Florida, and the other wants to go to college 1500 miles from home. Her backup school is 1300 miles in the other direction. They are still my daughters. They love me. We’ll spend lots of time together. But they will be “away.”

Sigh.

But this is not the primary reason I’m crying. I’m crying because I have joy. I’m crying because the devil cannot pry it out of my hands. I’m crying because Jesus is here, because He’s with me and won’t ever leave me. I’m crying because every morning He’s waiting for me on the couch or in the prayer closet or on the porch. I’m crying because sorrow cannot compete with the deep, good, strong spring of life flowing from the very center of my being.

Jesus is my joy.

And it will not be taken away from me.

In the comments

• What’s something painful you endured because you knew there would be something wonderful on the other side of the pain?

• Do you feel like your joy is permanent and guaranteed? If not, why do you think that is? If so, give an example of a time that truth came into sharp relief.

Godspeed,

JL