There’s no part of me that wants sorrow to be a part of my story.

There isn’t any plan God could present where I would willingly agree to heartbreak and pain.

But the longer I walk with the Lord, the more I see what a tragedy that would be. Picking and choosing what gets to be part of my story would keep me from the ultimate good God has in mind. James 1:2–4 reminds us;

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

These words are easy to pull out when our worst issue is the drive-through getting our coffee order wrong. But what about those things that hurt too long? Or disappoint too deeply? Or feel devastatingly permanent?

To slap some “we should be joyful about this” verses on top of those hard things feels cruel. Like a bad joke about something excruciatingly painful.

That’s why I’m glad these verses don’t say “feel the joy” but instead “consider where some glimpses of joy might be even in the midst of all the hurt.”

Our understanding of joy rises and falls on whether we truly trust God in the middle of what our human minds can’t see as good at all. It’s hard. So I like to think of it in terms of baking.

Imagine we go to the store to buy all of the ingredients we need to make a cake, but then we feel too tired to mix it all together. Instead, we decide to just enjoy the cake one ingredient at a time. The thing is that sometimes we don’t like some of the individual ingredients, so we’d rather leave them out.

The flour is too dry—leave it out. The sugar, butter, and vanilla are all good—leave them in! The eggs are just gross when raw—definitely leave those out! And then our cake would never be made “mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. – Hebrews 12:2 NASB1995

We are so quick to judge the quality of our lives and the reliability of God based on individual events, rather than on the eventual good God is working together. We must know that just like the master baker has reasons to allow the flour and eggs in right measure into the recipe, Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, will do the same with dry times and hard times.

We can make peace with the fact that sorrow and celebration can coexist together in a heart quite authentically. Mixing them together is part of the recipe of life.

We can sit with and tend to all that still needs to be healed and at the same time laugh, plan for great things ahead, and declare this a glorious day.

To have both sorrow and celebration in our heart isn’t denial.

It’s deeming life a gift—even if it looks nothing like we thought it would right now.

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. – Romans 8:28 NASB1995

Our sorrows make our hearts more tender and allow us to grieve. Our celebrations tend to our heart’s need to recognize what is beautiful about our life, get back up, and go on.

Let’s embrace the mix of all that’s worthy of celebration while fully allowing sorrow to add what it brings as well—knowing we can trust Jesus’ recipe of purpose in both the pain and joy.

RESPOND:

What “ingredients” in your life do you wish God would remove? How could God actually be using these things for good? Ask Him to help you see glimpses of joy even in the midst of your pain, and then write down what you see over the next week.

I don’t doubt God is real and that God is good. But I often pray, “God, give me relief from my unbelief.”

I pray this when what He allows into my life does not feel good or seem good to me. When we assume we know what a good God would do, and He doesn’t do it? That’s the complicated place where doubts are formed and we can be tempted to distance ourselves from God.

I’m reminded of Peter—a man who boldly declared to Jesus, “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you” (Mark 14:31), but then found himself doing the exact opposite.

While Mark 14 shows us Jesus remaining faithful in the midst of the pain and turmoil of a beloved friend’s betrayal (vv. 43–45) and the high priest’s interrogation (vv. 53–65), we find Peter with faltering faith as he stood waiting in a courtyard (vv. 66–72).

Afraid. Cold. Forgetful. Peter soon denied the One who loved him most.

Once. Twice. Three times. A rooster’s shrill cry ushered in the shocking realization that the very thing Peter swore he’d never do, he did.

And as much as we might want to shake our head at Peter, I think we all know fear, pain, and insecurities really can do a number on the human heart.

They certainly did a number on Peter’s, as he watched Jesus, the One he had seen perform miracles, allow Himself to be bound and arrested. Jesus was supposed to be the King who would deliver the Jewish people from the oppression of the Romans. How could this be happening? Peter didn’t realize this was the only way he or anyone else could experience Jesus reigning as King in eternity.

So, in a moment of doubt and disappointment, Peter chose to distance himself from Jesus. Distancing himself to the point of complete denial.

To deny something is to declare it’s untrue. To deny Jesus is to say with our words, thoughts, or actions that we don’t really believe the truth of who Jesus says He is or what He says He’ll do.

How heartbreaking. For us. For Jesus.

But before we give in to feelings of shame, let’s look at Luke 22:61–62:

“The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.’ And he went outside and wept bitterly.”

The look that passed between Jesus and Peter wasn’t one of condemnation. It wasn’t an “I told you so” moment. I believe Jesus’ eyes were filled with compassion for Peter. The same compassion He has for us today. A look that invites us to trust Him and draw near to Him once again.

Oh, friend. Let’s ask ourselves where we’re denying Jesus’ truth in our lives. Denying His healing. Denying His redemption and hope.

Nothing is beyond the reach of our Jesus. No matter what we’ve done. No matter what the enemy or our life’s circumstances may say.

Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. – Romans 8:1 NASB1995

We can draw near to Him today and pray, “Lord, I don’t want to deny Your power just because I’m afraid and I don’t see evidence of You working now. Give me relief from any and all unbelief. And help me watch for evidence of all You are doing, big and small. I don’t have to understand this to trust You with this.”

RESPOND:

Prayerfully ask the Lord to reveal any places you’ve been denying Jesus and to give you relief from your unbelief. Consider reaching out to a friend to help hold you accountable in these areas of your life.