At the beginning of this season of Advent I started praying for a spirit of joyfulness. I had several motivations behind this, one being I tend to get a little envious of my teacher and student friends around this time, and have a habit of feeling discontent with being at work up until a couple days before Christmas. Forgive me Lord, because the struggle is real—anyone with me? Hopefully yes.

The other reason is that while I feel this immense hope and anticipation thinking about the gift of Jesus being born, I can’t help but notice the weight of evil around the world.

I know this is nothing new, but for many this season is one where past pain is brought to the surface and people are stuck trying to process their hurt in light of what they have experienced in the past year. I have a mom I have worked with for a year and a half now, and last year at this time she essentially dropped off the face of the earth. This year she explained that she has been in survival mode for ten years, and each December she grapples with her desire for things to change, but inability to bring about any of those changes.

While I am sitting in a coffee shop on my lunch break, there are thousands of people in Aleppo trying to escape incessant bombings and violence, but are being blocked from evacuating, and many are dying of overexposure as they wait in the cold overnight.

Every day upwards of 16,000 children under age 5 are dying, with over half dying from preventable diseases.

I have struggled to experience the fullness of joy because it feels so at odds with the grief and anger I am holding over the current state of our world.

I wonder where God is in the midst of such darkness, and ache so desperately for him to move and bring about justice.

Our church started doing something called “Prayers of the People” several months ago, drawing upon the liturgical practices of the Anglican Church. Each week a Hillsider reflects on and writes their own prayer, following a similar structure of prayers for our world, the global Church, our nation’s leaders, our local leaders, our communities, and our church. It is an immensely vulnerable and beautiful experience to listen to what weighs on our brothers & sisters hearts.

I bring this up because of how someone’s prayer helped me process through this inner dialogue I have been having the past few weeks. While he was praying about persecution within the global Church he said, “We lift them up with tears and with joy…”

We lift them up with tears and with joy.

I had been feeling like I needed to fully commit to one or the other—heartache or joy.

Once I started thinking about it, I realized I don’t think this is what God desires of us. The joy we find in Christ coming to earth to continue God’s story of restoration and redemption doesn’t deny that there is suffering being experienced right now. And violence, persecution, and brokenness don’t negate the gift of God becoming man in what is the ultimate act of love and grace.

We can hold these feelings in tension with each other. Recognizing Christ brought hope and peace to a broken world, and that provision of hope and peace is just as true and needed now as it was then.

I think if we ignore suffering in this season we might be missing the reason why the joy of Jesus is so significant. If there were no pain, no injustice, no sin, Jesus wouldn’t have needed to come around in the first place! We are able to feel the great weight of how badly this little baby in a manger is needed to redeem creation by acknowledging that restoration is not yet complete.

If you are also having a hard time trying to process these things like I am, here are a few verses you can use to guide your prayers and conversations this Christmas.

“But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find welfare.” Jeremiah 29:7

“Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people, making widows their prey and robbing the fatherless.” Isaiah 10:1-2

“And so we know and rely on the love God has for us.” 1 John 4:16

“But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream.” Amos 5:24

“Hear my voice when I call, Lord; be merciful to me and answer me. My heart says of you, ‘Seek his face!’ Your face, Lord, I will seek… I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong, take heart, and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27: 7-8, 13-14

Lord, thank you for the gift of Jesus. Thank you for giving me grace upon grace, and for restoring and redeeming me through you. Help me calm the inner turmoil in my heart, that I may feel the weight of love you have for me as your child. God, there is so much pain and brokenness that when I think of it I feel paralyzed and struggle to feel joy and peace. Fill my heart with peace that surpasses all human understanding, and discernment to see you in the midst of chaos, not in spite of it. Forgive me for the times I chose not to see and acknowledge people in their brokenness, or the suffering on earth because I was afraid it would increase my doubt. Give me the wisdom and strength to live a life not of insulation, but of mercy and engagement. I pray for my community, that they may feel your love for them—give me eyes to see when I can be the person to show them your love, and a willing spirit to follow through. Thank you for being with me in my confusion and discomfort. We lift up all these things with tears and with joy. Amen.

I don’t want to be happy. And I don’t want you to be happy either. 

Controversial? Maybe. 

The times I have been happiest have been times when things have been going really well for me. Smooth sailing, clear blue skies, things are just working. I wonder if that isn’t the point of living in Christ though. 

I wonder if we are called into something deeper; something more challenging, and at times maybe even earth-shattering. 

Happiness and joy are not the same thing. 

Happiness is contingent upon my circumstances. On things going the way I planned. On my (emotional) reactions to situations being positive.

Often happiness necessitates an inward focus, because as we start to look beyond our own lives to our families, our communities, and our world, the task of remaining happy gets a lot trickier. This is when I see the “head buried in the sand” phenomenon. In an act of self-preservation we stop noticing brokenness because it threatens our happiness. And rightly so—injustice, pain, and heartache should not make us happy. But I don’t think our task in life is to lead happy lives.

As I looked to Scripture to see what it had to say about joy, I quickly noticed a connection. More often than not when people described joy, it was in relation to being drawn nearer and nearer to God. 

Joy is the natural fruit of walking into the presence of Christ.

Joy is the outcome of being rooted in my Savior rather than my situation. 

I believe God is drawing us into communion with Him in order to rework our hearts to become more aligned with His image. And God has a fiery passion for the marginalized, the oppressed, and the “other.” He knows pain intimately, and doesn’t ever choose to run from it. So if we are living within the happiness paradigm, we might be sacrificing pieces of the abundant life He has for us.

Joy allows us to witness the worst this world has to offer and still sing His praises, because we know that He is in the long, slow, deep work of reconciliation. It enables us to cultivate hearts full of patience, justice, and peace even when things aren’t going well. 

I pray that we may find joy in the midst of pain and injustice, and not in spite of it. I pray that we will joyfully approach brokenness, knowing with full confidence that we are entering holy ground. I pray that our hardship can glorify our good, good Father, and that it draws us into messy but beautiful intimacy with Him.