Joy is a word we hear everywhere during the Christmas season. It greets us from greeting cards, rises from familiar carols, and is woven into decorations that promise warmth, celebration, and cheer. Everywhere we turn, joy is announced boldly and confidently, as though it should come naturally this time of year. And yet, for many of us, joy feels far more complicated, especially during Advent.
Advent is a season of waiting, and this waiting is rarely simple. It often carries unanswered questions, lingering grief, quiet disappointments, or long-held hopes that have not yet been fulfilled. Some of us wait with heavy hearts, shaped by loss or uncertainty. Others wait with a subtle ache, sensing that something is unresolved or incomplete. In seasons like these, joy can feel distant, fragile, and even out of reach.
This is why the joy of Advent is different from the joy the world often celebrates. Advent joy doesn’t demand constant cheerfulness or insist that we feel festive no matter what we’re carrying. It doesn’t deny sorrow or rush us past our pain. Instead, it grows slowly and gently, rooted not in circumstances but in God’s faithfulness and His promise to draw near to His people.
The Third Week of Advent
The third week of Advent is traditionally associated with joy. This joy reminds us that even in seasons of repentance, reflection, and waiting, joy is already breaking through. Not because everything has been resolved, but because “the lord is near” (Philippians 4:5).
The scriptures for this week invite us to explore joy in a deeper and more enduring way. They reveal joy that follows sorrow, joy grounded in salvation, joy found in God’s presence, and joy that looks forward to the restoration still to come.
As we walk through these passages together, may we discover a joy that steadies our hearts, sustains our faith, and gently accompanies us in the waiting.
Joy Breaking into Barren Places
“The wilderness and the wasteland shall be glad for them, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose…for waters shall burst forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert” (Isaiah 35:1-6 NKJV).
Isaiah paints a vivid picture of joy erupting in the most unlikely places: the desert blooming, the weak made strong, and sorrow turning to song. This isn’t superficial happiness; it’s transformative joy that signals God’s renewal breaking into a weary world.
In our own “desert” seasons of dryness, doubt, or despair, this passage reassures us that God’s presence brings life where it seems impossible. Joy blooms not in spite of hardship, but right in its midst, as a foretaste of the full restoration Christ brings.
Joy That Follows Sorrow
“For his anger is but for a moment, his favor is for a life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5 NKJV).
Psalm 30 offers one of Scripture’s most honest and compassionate pictures of joy. David doesn’t rush past sorrow or attempt to minimize pain. He openly acknowledges the night, a season marked by weeping, fear, and deep uncertainty. His words make space for grief rather than silencing it. And yet, within that honesty, he also proclaims a promise: the night doesn’t last forever.
In the ancient world, night was associated with danger and vulnerability. Darkness brought uncertainty, unseen threats, and fear. Morning, by contrast, represented safety, renewal, and God’s mercy breaking in once again. David’s words remind us that sorrow has a season, but it doesn’t have the final word.
Psalm 30:5 is sometimes misunderstood as a promise that sorrow will always be brief and joy immediate. But Scripture doesn’t rush the night. In many psalms, the night lingers, sometimes far longer than expected.
What Psalm 30 offers isn’t a timeline, but a guarantee: sorrow is real, and it’s taken seriously by God, but it’s not eternal. God’s mercy renews, even when the path forward feels slow, uneven, or unclear.
Israel waited centuries for the Messiah, often through exile, suffering, and silence. And yet, God was still at work. Morning came. Light broke through, and Christ was born.
For many of us, Advent arrives in the middle of our own “night” seasons. Psalm 30 gently reassures us that God sees our sorrow and promises renewal in His time.
Joy Rooted in God’s Nearness
“Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice! Let your gentleness be known to all men. The Lord is at hand” (Philippians 4:4-5 NKJV).
Paul’s call to rejoice may seem surprising given his circumstances. He wrote these words from prison, confined, uncertain about his fate, and facing real hardship. His life was marked by loss of freedom, unanswered questions, and physical suffering. And yet, joy runs through his letter.
His joy isn’t rooted in optimism or positive thinking. It’s rooted in orientation. His heart and life are oriented toward God’s faithfulness rather than his immediate suffering. This distinction matters deeply for Advent. When joy’s rooted in circumstances, it rises and falls with our environment and our emotions. When joy’s rooted in God’s nearness, it becomes resilient.
This is why Advent can coexist with grief. We can rejoice in the Lord even when life feels fragile or uncertain. God’s nearness doesn’t eliminate hardship, but it reframes it. Whatever we face, we don’t face it alone.
“The Lord is near” carries a double meaning. It speaks of God’s closeness in the present moment; His abiding presence with us through His Spirit. And it points forward to His promised return, when all things will be made new. Both realities shape Christian joy.
Advent holds these truths together beautifully. We remember that Christ has already come. God entered human history and dwelt among us. And we look forward to His return, when justice will be restored and sorrow undone. Joy flows from living between these two promises.
This kind of joy doesn’t ignore hardship or dismiss pain. Instead, it steadies us within it. It reminds us that we’re not forgotten, abandoned, or overlooked. God is close.
Joy Announced to the Ordinary
“Then the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:10-11 NKJV).
When the angel announces Jesus’ birth, the recipients are not rulers, scholars, or religious leaders. They’re shepherds: ordinary, working people living on the margins of society. Their lives were shaped by long nights, hard labor, and little recognition.
This choice reveals something essential about the joy God brings. Joy isn’t reserved only for the powerful, the prepared, or the impressive. It’s offered freely, generously, and without condition to all people around the world.
The shepherds weren’t seeking joy. They were simply tending their flocks, going about an ordinary night. And yet, joy found them. God interrupted the ordinary with glory.
Advent joy can enter our lives in a similar way; unexpectedly, quietly, and without fanfare. It meets us where we are, not where we think we should be.
Obstacles to Advent Joy
Busyness, comparison, unresolved grief, unrealistic expectations, and exhaustion can quietly crowd out joy, especially during Advent. When joy feels distant, Scripture invites gentleness rather than judgment.
If joy feels hard to access, it doesn’t mean we’re failing spiritually. It may simply mean we’re tired, grieving, or carrying more than we realize. God meets us there with compassion.
Sometimes the most faithful step we can take is to slow down, lower expectations, and allow God to meet us exactly where we are.
Concluding Thoughts: Letting Joy Grow Gently
As we move toward the end of the third week of Advent, we’re reminded that joy doesn’t demand perfection or deny pain. It grows quietly, rooted in God’s nearness and His promises.
In a hurried, noisy world, Advent joy invites us to slow down, to trust, and to receive rather than strive. Christ has come. Christ is with us. And Christ will come again.
Joy may arrive in unexpected ways: a moment of peace, a deep breath, a renewed trust in God’s timing. These seemingly small signs matter. They remind us that even in the waiting, joy is already taking root. We only need to trust God and wait in His presence.
A Closing Prayer
Lord Jesus, in this season of waiting, awaken joy in our hearts; not the fleeting kind, but the deep joy of Your nearness and salvation. Transform our deserts into places of blooming, steady us in sorrow, and meet us in the ordinary. Help us rejoice because You are near. In Your name. Amen.
God bless,
Advent Week 3: Joy in the Waiting invites you to pause and
reflect on the deep, steady joy God offers during the season of waiting.
Centered on Scripture and rooted in the Advent tradition, this study guide
explores joy that follows sorrow, joy grounded in salvation, joy found in God’s
presence, and joy that points us toward the restoration still to come.
Through daily reflections and thoughtful study prompts, this guide helps you slow down, engage Scripture more deeply, and rediscover joy that is not dependent on circumstances but is anchored in God’s faithfulness and nearness.
Perfect for personal reflection or quiet Advent study.
Get your copy today on my Gumroad shop!
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for stopping by! If you want to leave a comment or a question, please keep it nice and clean! I'll get back to you ASAP! Thanks!
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.