The Narrow Way

Joy isn’t just a feeling.
It’s not the high of a good day.
It’s not the outcome of a perfect plan.
Joy… the kind that comes from God, is a decision.

And I’ve made mine.
I’m choosing joy that stays.

Not because everything is easy.
Not because I have it all figured out.
Not because the battle is over.
But because I’ve found the One who walks with me through every season, and that’s enough to rejoice.

See, I used to treat joy like it was fragile.
Like I had to protect it from disappointment.
Like it could only survive in perfect conditions.
But then I met Jesus in the storm.
And I learned, real joy doesn’t leave when the winds blow. It anchors you.

Nehemiah 8:10 says,
“The joy of the Lord is your strength.”

Not the joy of success.
Not the joy of applause.
Not the joy of arrival.
The joy of the Lord.

That kind of joy isn’t moved by circumstance.
It doesn’t rise and fall with people’s opinions.
It doesn’t wait for the blessing to drop before it celebrates.

That kind of joy shows up in hospital rooms.
That kind of joy walks through grief with a steady hand.
That kind of joy dances in the dark, because it knows the light is coming.

I’ve cried too many tears to let the enemy steal my smile.
I’ve overcome too much to go back to despair.
I’ve prayed too long to live like joy is something I have to earn.

So now?
I protect it.
I guard it with gratitude.
I feed it with worship.
I cover it in prayer.
Because this joy, this deep, abiding, overflow kind of joy… is holy.

And I don’t owe it to anyone’s comfort.
I don’t have to downplay it to make others feel better.
I don’t have to explain why I’m smiling in a season that should’ve broken me.

I’m smiling because He kept me.
I’m smiling because I know what it cost to get here.
I’m smiling because joy is proof I’m still free.

This joy is not an escape from reality, it’s evidence of grace.
It’s the echo of heaven in the middle of a world that says I should’ve given up by now.
It’s the song I sing when the silence is loud.
It’s the reminder that I’ve already won, because Jesus already did.

So no, joy won’t always look loud.
Sometimes it looks like peace in your eyes.
Sometimes it looks like a deep breath.
Sometimes it looks like a quiet confidence that says, “I’m good, even if everything isn’t.”

But however it shows up, I’m keeping it.
Because this joy?
It’s not going anywhere.

It’s sustained.
It’s sacred.
And it’s mine.