Each year, rather than make New Year’s Resolutions, I usually pick a word to think about and work on throughout the year. This year’s word happens to be joy.
When I think about the art of joy, I think about so much more than happiness. To me, joy is fulfillment derived from an abundance and overwhelming sense of hope. In fact, when I think about joy, I think directly to what Paul says in Romans: “Not only so, but we rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit whom he has given us” (Romans 5: 3-5, NIV). Joy isn’t dependent on anything else. One’s joy does not come from situations or present conditions; it is unwavering. One thing about joy that I think many people are mistaken on, is the idea that we have to create our own joy in order to be content. We turn towards fillers that promise us happiness, but they never truly last. Being content is a daily decision to choose to be joyful. It’s choosing to say God is enough, because He is.
We don’t have to create our own joy, because of who the center of our joy should be. Paul goes on to say, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Romans 15:13). Trusting in His promises takes an act of faith, but doing so can help free us from the likes of discontentment and envy.
As I think about the things that can strip us of our joy, envy has definitely got to be near the top of the list. There is a reason “Do not covet” is one of the Ten Commandments. Coveting what other people have leads to comparison and comparison leads to bitterness. Bitterness destroys joy. It can be so easy to wish we had so many different things that we don’t have, but what is the point? There will always be things in this life that we don’t have, but there will also be things that we do have right now that will not last forever. One thing that I think about a lot is my health. Health is something many of us take for granted, but something that will also not last forever. While I am writing this, we are in the midst of flu season. It’s crazy how something as small as getting sick can make us realize that our energy isn’t a guarantee. When I think about this, I think about Paul’s thorn that he talks about in 2nd Corinthians. Paul had this unknown ailment that he pleads with God to take away. It could be so easy for him to say, “God, if you would take this away, I could do so much more. I could be so much more.” But he doesn’t. Instead, he says that he “will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest on me” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
The beauty of 2nd Corinthians 12 is the idea of accepting our limitations. This unknown weakness of Paul’s described here impaired him either physically or mentally. But by accepting who God made him, Paul was able to ultimately better able to serve the kingdom. The idea of accepting one’s weaknesses and limitations can sound very depressing. Often, there is a message that we can do anything we set our mind too. It’s something I have often struggled with, especially when I see Philippians 4:13—“I can do everything through Him who gives me strength”. The thing about Philippians 4 though, is that in the verses preceding, Paul literally says that “he has learned to be content whatever the circumstances” (4:11). When I and others think God will help us do anything, we do so from a place of bitterness, comparison, and wanting something we do not have, rather than a place of acceptance such as Paul. You may very well be granted whatever you ask God for, but I can guarantee you something. Whatever you gain will not increase your joy. If you are trying to increase your joy through your aspirations on earth, all you will find is that it is a chasing after the wind (see Solomon in Ecclesiastes). When Paul was writing Philippians, he was doing so from a place of total fulfillment. Everything he needed, he already had. Can I say the same for my life? How can I get to the place Paul was at, even when he seemed to have so little? That is what I am trying to work on. That is the art of contentment.
“So we wake up each day committed to live in the small moments of our daily lives with open eyes and humbly expectant hearts”. –Paul Tripp
