Sorrowful YET Rejoicing
There’s no part of me that wishes for pain or struggle. Left up to me, I’d leave out those parts of my story all together. Yet, the longer I walk with God, the more I see His goodness in the midst of pain.
Please don’t misunderstand - I’m not raising my hand declaring, “Bring on the pain!” But, the review mirror tells stories I’ve learned to be thankful for. I look back and remember His nearness and provision. I see how seasons of pain, grief, and sorrow have shaped me and changed me. They’ve driven me to my knees and reminded me this world isn’t my hope or my home. Faith and truth reminds me everything broken is temporary, and our souls yearn for redemption and the final righting of all wrongs - the final healing of all pain. And it will come.
This photo (below) recently popped up as a memory from four years ago. That’s me in the middle - smiling as I stand with two incredible men (and two of my favorite NYT Bestselling Authors): Flip, who I’ve known as a mentor and friend since I was 18, and Bob, a new friend I met on this night as hundreds gathered for the True To Life Ministries Hope Event.
Elected officials, commissioners, mayors, community leaders, business owners, moms, dads, helpers, prayer warriors, friends, neighbors, pastors, and nonprofit leaders, all poured into one place for so much more than a fundraiser. The whole evening stood as one big declaration of hope never running out, that life-change is possible through the Gospel and community, and that God will do more than we can ever imagine, even when all we have to bring to the table is our lack.
That night landed on the highlight reel of my life. I will never forget it!
But there was another storyline just as alive and real for me, running parallel with the celebrating and excitement: I was in the full-on grasp of postpartum depression.
I hadn’t felt like myself in months, and it would be months later before I finally did. Most days I felt like a spectator in my own life. Anxiety, exhaustion, and emotional fragility were all part of my norm. Later, people told me I hid it well, but I wasn’t really trying to hide it - I was just trying to keep up with the demands of daily life and ministry. I didn’t talk about it publicly because I had no words to explain it. It was a brutal season.
All I knew was that sadness was a very real companion. But so was joy.
Does feeling both make us hypocrites? Does it mean we are in denial or out of touch?
It took some time - quite a bit actually - but I finally learned feeling both joy and sorrow doesn’t mean I’m a hypocrite, that I’m in denial, or that I’m out of touch.
Joy and struggle can coexist. And honestly, they often do for those of us who are Christ-followers. This permission - this truth - has been oxygen for my soul.
Paul profoundly describes the state of his heart and those persecuted in the early church as “sorrowful yet rejoicing.” (2 Corinthians 6:10)
Let’s say it one more time for the people in the back: SORROWFUL YET REJOICING. Not just one or the other. Both.
James challenges us to the core when he says: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)
He isn’t asking us to slap a happy face on our pain (that would be cruel and ridiculous). He’s simply reminding us there’s more to the story, that the pain isn’t all there is and certainly not all there will be. And, somehow, if we let it, God can do supernatural work in us even when we think the circumstances should void that opportunity. He is asking us to “consider” where joy might be, even in the midst of pain.
A friend text me recently before driving her husband to the hospital for what is going to be an incredibly hard road, yet her text named SIX specific points of gratitude and hope she’s clinging to.
I stood a few weeks ago at our Farmer’s Market and chatted with a dear friend whose son-in-law is in the final stages of his cancer battle. His young children are trying to understand what it means to say goodbye to their father and his wife is watching her beloved fade away. Though her family is grieving, my sweet friend recounted the simple joys of birthday parties and drives in the car, and the gift of community that is loving them so well.
I sat beside another friend last week as part of a panel discussion for a women’s event whose husband unexpectedly and tragically passed away last year. Yes, she spoke of grief and loss, but she spoke most of purpose and God’s nearness for her and her young girls.
Two days ago, I received a text from a woman True To Life Ministries is helping leave a world of abuse and pain. As she sat in a safe house awaiting next steps of hope and healing, she told me she was both lonely and hopeful - afraid but also encouraged - because she knew better days have to be ahead. And, perhaps for the first time, she’s understanding God loves her.
Sorrowful yet rejoicing.
I once read this profound truth from Lysa TerKeurst: “Our sorrows tender our heart and allow us to grieve. Our celebrations tend to our heart’s need to get back up and go on.”
Let’s celebrate when life calls for celebration, and let’s invite sorrow to pull up a seat at the table when it’s time. Let’s remember our God is both the one who rejoices over us with singing (Zeph. 3:17), and the one who is near to the brokenhearted (Ps. 34:18).
I’d love for YOU to join this conversation. Tell me in the comments how these truths resonate with you! And, maybe you have a friend who would benefit from reading these words - please feel free to share!