Yesterday I posted something about joy. I get something like that in my head and I can’t move on till I do something about it. Sometimes, maybe all the time, I think it’s more for me than for anybody else. So I write. It may never come out of drafts or it may simmer for a few days or I may post immediately, like ripping a bandage. Yesterday it was ripping a bandage.
I woke up this morning thinking I left the impression that sin was okay as long as you had ‘joy’. That was not my intention.
Sin without confession and repentance will steal your joy. Sin without confession and repentance will weaken your faith. Sin without confession and repentance will silence that inner voice of the Spirit. Sin without confession and repentance will lead to hell instead of heaven. That’s kind of in your face but there it is.
Before I had gotten past that thought I stumbled on another one. There are people in the world who have suffered unthinkable tragedy, tragedy far greater than the small upsets I have endured. Who am I to tell those people that they should be joyful?
What can I say? I don’t feel qualified to give advice but here I am anyway. Don’t give up. Argue, accuse, rail against the injustice of it but don’t give up. Don’t stop talking. Don’t stop listening. Be alert for those little spurts of joy, unreasonable joy, that seem to come from nowhere. Hang on. God will not let go if you don’t let go.
The night may be far longer and darker than you could ever imagine. But someday the morning will come. And joy comes in the morning.