The Powerful Beauty of JOY

Joy: Love’s Invincible Bodyguard

One day, my grandmother asked me to visit her in the hospital. Her life was gently slipping away, and she wanted to give me personal instructions for her funeral. With a firm voice, she insisted I read Psalm 34 aloud—especially two verses.

The first was her declaration:“No matter what happens, I will bless the Lord. His praise will remain in my mouth continually.”

The second, a command to us all:“Taste and see that the Lord is good.”

At the time, her choices puzzled me. Psalm 34 is a psalm of life—of discovering God in the middle of chaos—not death. It’s about experience, not endings. And what did it even mean to “taste” God’s goodness?

Before I left, she made a curious statement—something that felt like prophecy. She listed, in order, which family members would one day follow her in passing and join her in heaven. So far, her words have proven entirely accurate. Her final message to me?“We’ll be so happy and have such a good time together again.”

She was dying… yet she overflowed with Joy.

I didn’t understand.

Years passed. Then came a moment I will never forget. I found myself standing in a hospital suite, holding my lifeless granddaughter. The room was filled with nurses, friends, and family. And even in the middle of profound loss, I saw something I’d never witnessed before: an outpouring of love and kindness that filled every inch of that space.

Yet my heart broke for my daughter and son-in-law. And yes—my own heart, too.

I looked down at the delicate features of that sweet child and feared that at any moment, I might lose control and dissolve into weeping.

But I didn’t. Because suddenly, Scripture interrupted my grief:

“Today is holy to the Lord. Do not grieve or be dismayed, for the Joy of the Lord of angel armies is your strength.”

In that holy moment, it struck me—I had stopped praying once she passed. I had assumed God had answered “No,” and that was the end. But then He spoke. Not with rebuke, but with presence. His voice filled my heart, and in its place came Peace. Warm, steady, quiet Peace.

Joy arrived.Right there, in the middle of death and despair.And it changed everything.

I came to understand something deeper: Joy is not the absence of sorrow. It’s not the denial of pain. Joy is God's presence breaking in—when we least expect it and need it most.

In that moment, I tasted the goodness of the Lord. I experienced the sweetness my grandmother wanted me to know all those years ago.

I know many who are struggling right now. Friends, family—distracted and disoriented by tragedy or trial. They want to believe God is good. But they’re secretly wrestling with doubt, afraid to hope again. I know that feeling. I’ve lived it.

But God does not leave us alone in sorrow. If we’re watching, He shows up in powerful, unmistakable ways.

Scripture tells us plainly:“Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Give thanks in all things. This is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thess. 5:16–18)

And Jesus Himself said,“In this world, bad things will happen. But don’t worry. I win.” (John 16:33, Coptic translation)

So yes, we grieve. But not as those without hope.

We remember what God has done. We give thanks.

And we choose Joy.

It is the bridge connecting Love and Peace.

Joy is Love’s invincible bodyguard. It doesn’t criticize, fracture, or fail. In Joy Love thrives—the place where it stays strong and endures.

When Love is stretched thin, Joy steps in.

When our expectations fall short, Joy keeps us balanced. It is the steady companion of those who trust God in the dark. That’s why, no matter what happens—No matter my losses, failures, or sadness—I return to Joy.

Because Joy absorbs all grief and consumes despair. It dissolves every fear. And it gently feeds us the sweet strength of God Himself.

It’s the fruit of His Spirit and the song of His presence. It’s the strength to endure. And it’s always available to us.

Even when holding death in our arms.

Dearest Father, I thank You for Joy that defies sorrow and Peace that surpasses understanding. I admit that I often try to make sense of things before turning to You. Yet You are always near—ready to meet me, to hold me, and to fill me with Your strength. Lord, help me to remember that Your Joy is not circumstantial—it is supernatural. Teach me to bless You at all times. May Your praise never leave my lips, even in pain. Help me taste and see that You are the only good there is. And may the Joy of the Lord be the default setting of my heart—today and always. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Copyright: February 2024, revised July 2025, Gary Landerfelt, MyPericope.com