“In Your presence is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”
Psalm 16:11 (ESV)
There are some rooms that you walk into, and it feel as if the air itself is grieving.
I stepped into one of those rooms not long ago. A beloved and faithful member of our church family, who possessed a gentle, graceful, and radiant soul, lay in a hospital bed in her final hours. Her breathing was shallow, her speech was strained, all while her strength was slipping away with each passing hour. Her eyes were slowly blinking as if each blink was saying a tearful, unspoken goodbye that her lips didn’t have the strength to form. Around her bed stood, literally, generations of love; teenagers trying to understand death for the first time, siblings wrestling with the helplessness of watching life slip through the fingers of a sister they couldn’t save, nieces and nephews whose youthful innocence was being shattered by the realization that their favorite aunt was leaving them, and a husband who was wrestling with the indescribable emptiness you feel when you face the reality that someone you thought you would grow old with, may be leaving you for eternity in a matter of a few hours.
The atmosphere felt almost solid. Thick. Heavy. You could sense the nearness of death lurking in the doorway without an invitation. The weight of that room was heavy enough to make even the strongest person feel suddenly weak. No one spoke, because what do you say when your heart is speaking louder than your mind can form words to say? Tears fell and kept falling, but each one told a different story… a different grief… a different kind of ache that words can’t carry.
When my wife and I quietly entered that room, we knew enough not to try to bring answers. We didn’t bring any lofty explanations or clever Scriptures to wallpaper over the agony that this family was feeling. We brought the only thing that we possibly could.
We brought presence. Simple. Quiet. Loving. Presence.
There is a power when we learn how to take a seat in the grief, right alongside the tears, and the trembling hands, and wait for God to do what only God can do. Monica and I began to sing, almost under our breath, a worship song we’ve sung a hundred times before. But in that moment, it wasn’t a song; it was a lifeline… an SOS… a plea and a call for help.
And then it happened. Not loudly. Not suddenly. Not dramatically. But like a slow, quiet wind that blows through an open window and changes the temperature of the whole room… God entered.
And you could feel Him. The air shifted. Heavy shoulders lightened. Faces softened. Now to be sure, the pain didn’t vanish, or even subside, but for just a moment, it loosened its grip and allowed the room to breathe. Even death, which was stalking this beautiful and frail woman like a thief, had to bow its knee in the presence of God. She would not die until the King gave His permission.
So, when did joy enter? Well, joy didn’t march in with trumpets; it arrived like a quiet, soft hum, building slowly in the hearts of those in the room. It was a stabilizing kind of joy. A joy that calms us and whispers, “God is with you, you are not alone.” I don’t know if everyone in the room even felt it. But there was one person in the room who had this ‘joy’ all over her face; it was that beloved member of our church lying in that bed, struggling to breathe. She had found the wonder of perfect joy in the midst of tremendous pain.
This is what David meant in Psalm 16:11, when he said, “In Your presence there is fullness of joy.” Not in the presence of answers. Not in the presence of miracles. Not in the presence of healing. But, in the presence of God… and God alone.
JOY BEGINS WITH GOD IN THE ROOM
When David wrote Psalm 16, you would think he was at a celebration banquet, but in actuality, he was in a mountain den hiding from enemies. He penned these words with danger breathing down his neck. And yet he says, “My heart is glad… my soul shall rejoice in hope” (verse 9). How can this be? How could his heart be glad when his enemies are lurking in the shadows waiting to ambush him? Well, the answer is because joy is not experienced by desirable circumstances; joy is only experienced by Divine companionship.
The Hebrew phrase “in Your presence” doesn’t mean “in God’s general vicinity”, nor does it convey pervasiveness through God’s omnipresence. It literally means face-to-face Presence; cheek-to-cheek Presence. Close enough to hear God whisper. The kind of intimacy that two friends share after a long absence. That all-satisfying joy when you can sense God’s heart without needing to receive anything from His hand.
This kind of joy doesn’t come because God fixes the problem, or heals the body, or provides the relief, or changes anything about our circumstances. This joy comes purely because God has stepped into our heavy moment.
HOW DO YOU GET THIS KIND OF JOY?
Joy is not something you force. It’s not a smile you paint on while your heart is falling apart. Joy is that slow and stubborn conviction when you realize the God of the universe has just settled into the room with you.
Beloved, what you are praying for is not the loud joy of celebration, but the deep joy of communion. How do you get this joy? I have found a simple formula for receiving joy.
PRAY. WORSHIP. MEDITATE. REPEAT.
Each of these is embedded in the weight of scripture. There are Old Testament examples that we find in stories like David sitting among the ashes of Ziklag, encouraging himself in the Lord, His God, or Jacob wrestling with His Angel all night at the ford of Jabbok, or when King Hezekiah turned his face to the wall, and God met him with an offer of 15 more years of life, or King Jehoshaphat going up into his chamber and spreading the threatening letter from his enemy before the Lord, and declaring that the nations eyes were upon God. Countless stories reminding us that true joy only comes when you pray, worship, meditate, and repeat.
The New Testament scriptures abound with similar stories and principles teaching us how to find joy. Nowhere is it stated more beautifully than in Ephesians 5:19-20, “Speaking to yourselves in Psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord. Giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
THE FOUNDATION NECESSARY FOR JOY IS GOD’S PRESENCE
From the first pages of Scripture to the last, God’s greatest desire has always been the same: to be with us.
- He walked with Adam in the cool of the evening. (Genesis 3:8)
- He wrestled with Jacob through the night. (Genesis 32:24-20)
- He stood with the three Hebrew boys in the fire. (Daniel 3:24-25)
- He wrapped Himself in flesh and moved into our neighborhood as Emmanuel. (Matthew 1:23)
- He promised, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5)
- And in Revelation, He declares: “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with men.” (Revelation 21:3)
The greatest gift that you could ever receive is the Presence of God in the presence of pain. I want you to know that I am aware that when God steps into the room, grief doesn’t necessarily disappear, but it does lose its power to suffocate. Death doesn’t leave and abandon its assignment, but it loses its power to terrify. Questions don’t evaporate into thin air, but they lose their power to cause panic, and they eventually become irrelevant.
When we experience joy, it isn’t because our book mysteriously reached a final resolution, but because an atmosphere was created for God to show up in the middle of the chapter. Now that’s joy.
PRAYER
Lord, step into my room today. Into my heaviness… my hidden fears… my unspoken questions. Shift the atmosphere of my heart like only You can. Be my quiet strength in the places that feel fragile, my steady joy in the places that feel empty, and my sacred companion in every room I must walk through. Make Your nearness undeniable, and in Your presence, help me to find peace.
In Jesus’ name, amen.
SPIRITUAL DISCIPLINE: THE PRACTICE OF A SACRED AWARENESS
At some point today, sit quietly… no music, no agenda.. and simply breathe this prayer:
“Lord, step into this room.”
Say it until your soul feels it. Say it until the air around you shifts. Say it until joy rises… soft, steady, honest… the kind that only His presence can give.
Published on Dec 22 @ 8:46 PM EDT
0 comments
