What if my hope leads to disappointment? What if I embrace joy only to have it ripped from my hands? What if love only opens me up to more loss? These are the questions that accompanied my joy, haunting my heart as I held my newborn baby in my arms for the first time.
After a long season of infertility that included losing five babies to miscarriage, I was used to losing things I loved. I had become accomplished in rehearsing disaster and practicing disappointment, believing the false notion that if I expected and prepared for the worst, the worst would hurt less if it happened. It felt scary to celebrate the goodness in my life, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I’ve since learned that joy is the most vulnerable feeling we experience because when we hold something, it is automatically accompanied by the possibility of loss. And if we’ve experienced trauma or pain of any kind, it can feel safer not to hold that joy at all than to hold a joy that might break.
Like me, I’m guessing you know what it’s like to encounter heartache that makes you hesitant to rise to delight in your days and look to the future with an expectant heart. When we’ve experienced pain, it can be difficult to trust God’s promises. Pessimism is easier. Cynicism is safer. But the story of Elizabeth and Zechariah in Luke 1 extends a different invitation.
Both Elizabeth and Zechariah walked faithfully with God, even as they carried shame and grief in being unable to conceive a child. When the angel Gabriel visited Zechariah, he was unable to release his doubt and embrace the good news, and as a result, was silenced for a period of time by God (vv. 19-20). Zechariah had known God as his comforter, but was unable to trust Him as his celebrator. He wanted proof before deciding that joy was a good idea.
In contrast, Elizabeth readily received God’s gift of grace, seeing beyond her personal experience to what is possible with God. She was not entangled by doubt, nor did she allow the dread of what could happen to cause disbelief in God. Her intimacy with God allowed her to recognize His movement in her life easily and celebrate readily.
Honestly? I’m more like Zechariah. I long for a future that’s guarded with guarantees. But, with God’s help, I’m growing toward having a heart like Elizabeth. I want to recognize God in pain and joy and be unafraid to celebrate knowing that God is present and engaged in both experiences. I would like to gaze into the unknown and choose to wonder about how God will move. I want to be someone who can appreciate beauty without dreading its dark side. I would like to say yes to a dream without weighing it down with ideas about everything that could go wrong. I want to build plans with possibilities instead of problems. I don’t want to feel afraid to laugh or cheer out loud in the face of good news. I long to step into the light and trust that God will meet me there.
It’s worth noting that Zechariah’s pessimism didn’t keep him from the promise. Though Zechariah was silenced for a time because of his doubt, God was faithful to His promise. When hope feels scarce, sometimes we wonder if we need to demonstrate a certain level of faith before God is willing to intervene in our circumstances and bring breakthrough and healing. It’s easy to assume that our pain is the result of some sort of formula—our failure to be enough—good enough, strong enough, brave enough. But God’s faithfulness to us doesn’t depend on our faith. His goodness is not a function of our goodness. There is simply so much joy available to us when we trust God and take Him at His word.
This is what makes it safe to hope and a good idea to hold joy: We don’t hope because of what we receive. We hope because of who we receive: The Person and presence of Jesus Christ. No matter what the future holds, we can celebrate that God will be exactly who He says He is. Looking ahead, will we allow our awe of God to expand beyond the limits of our own imaginations? Will we hold an expectant heart, one that can celebrate God’s promises in the midst of all circumstances?
Perhaps you too have allowed fear to govern too many of your years. That fear has made you comfortable in the dark and hypervigilant in the light. Maybe you’ve also been tempted to protect yourself from the vulnerability of joy by asking questions like, “What if I’m foolish to hope? What if my celebration ends in sorrow?”
But this is the truth I want to press into your palms: you—just as you are in this moment—are celebrated by God. And you are made in His image as a celebrator. You’ve been given an invitation to release your fears, choose joy, find the courage to celebrate, and embark on a quest toward Daring Joy.
To read more from Nicole, learn about her new Bible study, Daring Joy: What Six Women in the Bible Teach Us About the Power of Celebration When It Feels Risky, Complicated, and Even Impossible.
ABOUT NICOLE ZASOWSKI
Nicole Zasowski is a licensed marriage and family therapist, sought-after speaker, and author of What If It’s Wonderful? and From Lost to Found. She lives in Connecticut with her husband and three young children. Nicole would love to connect with you on her website: nicolezasowski.com
9gcep6