Growing Fruit: JOY

Growing Fruit: Joy
If you've ever spent five minutes at my house, you've probably noticed one thing.
It's loud.
There are two energetic boys, a dog who believes every squirrel is a national emergency, a cat who still thinks my houseplants are her personal playground, and usually at least one person asking, "Mom, where's my...?" followed by the name of an item that is somehow invisible to everyone but me.
It's beautifully chaotic.
And if I'm honest, there are days when that chaos doesn't exactly make me feel joyful.
Don't get me wrong—I love my family more than anything. But there are moments when someone spills cereal on the floor five minutes after I vacuumed, someone else is arguing over whose turn it is to choose the TV show, and the dog decides this is the perfect time to bark at a leaf blowing across the yard.
Joy isn't always my first response.
Maybe you can relate.
When we hear the word joy, we often picture smiling faces, laughter, celebrations, and everything going according to plan.
But biblical joy is different from happiness.
Happiness depends on our circumstances.
Joy depends on our Savior.
That's why Paul could write about rejoicing while sitting in prison. That's why James tells us to "consider it pure joy" when we face trials. And that's why the Fruit of the Spirit isn't called "happiness."
Joy isn't pretending everything is okay.
Joy is knowing that even when everything isn't okay, God still is.
As a teacher, I see this play out all the time. Some students come into the classroom carrying burdens far beyond their years. Family struggles, learning challenges, friendships that have fallen apart—you can often see the weight they're carrying before they ever say a word.
One of my favorite parts of teaching is watching those same students begin to smile again. Sometimes all it takes is someone believing in them. Someone celebrating a small victory. Someone reminding them that they are seen, known, and loved.
Joy has a way of growing in places where hope is planted.
The same is true in our own lives.
If I'm waiting for life to be perfect before I choose joy, I'm going to be waiting a very long time.
There will always be another bill to pay, another schedule to juggle, another house project to finish, another unexpected challenge around the corner.
But there will also always be reasons to rejoice.
A sunset that stops me in my tracks.
A hug from one of my boys.
Iced Coffee that's not a watered down mess when I actually get to drink it. (A rare but glorious miracle.)
A prayer answered.
A friend who checks in at just the right moment.
The reminder that God has been faithful before, and He'll be faithful again.
In Nehemiah 8:10, we're told, "The joy of the Lord is your strength."
I love that verse because it doesn't say our strength comes from having an easy life.
It comes from the Lord.
His joy strengthens us when we're tired.
His joy steadies us when life feels uncertain.
His joy reminds us that this world isn't the end of the story.
As followers of Christ, our joy isn't rooted in what happens to us. It's rooted in Who walks with us through it.
That doesn't mean we ignore grief, disappointment, or hardship. Jesus Himself wept. He understood sorrow.
But even in sorrow, we can hold onto joy because we know God is present, God is working, and God keeps His promises.
This week, I want to encourage you to look for joy—not the kind that depends on everything going your way, but the kind that quietly reminds you God is near.
Maybe it's found in laughter around the dinner table.
Maybe it's in the kindness of a stranger.
Maybe it's in answered prayer.
Or maybe it's simply in the peace of knowing you don't have to face today alone.
Joy isn't about having a perfect life.
It's about trusting the One who is perfect.
And if all else fails, spend a few minutes watching kids laugh over something completely ridiculous. It's a wonderful reminder that sometimes joy is found in the simplest moments—and maybe, just maybe, that's where God intended us to find it all along.