Every day this week, rain has soaked our corner of the earth. All the blooming things of last week are trodden down, beat low to the ground beneath the weight of these regular downpours. The blooms we celebrated and took pictures of last week (because, “who can remember such a beautiful spring?”) are now scattered across the yard and floating down the street in a river of rain that’s come down too hard and too fast and too, too long. Three times, I’ve awakened not to my alarm clock but to the rumblings of disgruntled spring storms.
We knew it was coming the other day when the sun struggled to get through the clouds and the air was so thick with humidity that you could nearly scoop the moisture into your hands.
Discouragement rolls in like that sometimes. You can’t really account for it when life has been sweet and good and who can remember such a beautiful season? But you wake up one morning to the rumblings of a disgruntled spirit and the air is so thick with discouragement you could almost hold it in your hands. You start to evaluate what brought it on. Maybe I’m sinning too much and loving Christ too little. Maybe I need a change, a break, something to look forward to. Maybe I’m just tired.
And probably there’s an element of truth to all of that. You indulge your desires too much, you love Jesus too little, you’re just plain weary. Sometimes discouragement rolls in when you least expect it and you just can’t find a break in the clouds. Joy is a sun you haven’t seen in weeks.
When discouragement rolls in like a week of spring downpours, I want to wait it out. Just sit tight until the storm passes and the sun breaks through the clouds again. But joy isn’t something we wait around for while we sit on our hands in discouragement. Joy is something we must fight for, look for, fixate on. Holding on to joy is a command—rejoice in the Lord always! Always? Always. (See 1 Thess. 5:16, Phil. 4:4). That means even when your heart is beaten down by discouragement. And I don’t think joy means some kind of giddy excitement. Joy is certainty and contentment in Christ, even when life tells you to feel differently than you know. If you’re beaten down, there’s a good chance that joy isn’t just going to suddenly appear. You’re going to have to remember it. You’re going to have to turn your eyes away from yourself to find it. You’re going to have to fight for it.
That means you can’t be a victim of your discouragement. And that’s the tricky thing about discouragement—even in apathy, there’s a strong desire to give yourself over to joylessness. John Piper says that “God does not mean for us to passive. He means for us to fight the fight of faith—the fight for joy. And the central strategy is to preach the gospel to yourself. This is war. Satan is preaching for sure. If we remain passive, we surrender the field to him[1].” All too often we treat the Christian life like something that happens to us, and indeed, God does the miraculous work of regeneration and new birth. He is just as committed to our sanctification. But we forget that there’s a big battle going on and holding on to joy with both hands is going to take some effort on our part (see Phil. 2:12-13). It’s when we’re firmly entrenched in the fight that we realize God has given us everything we need to remember the joy of His salvation.
It’s when we’re firmly entrenched in the fight that we realize God has given us everything we need to remember the joy of His salvation. Share on XFirst, He’s given us the Bible. Saturate your heart in Scripture. There is no substitution for the strong, inspired Word of the Lord. There just isn’t. When our emotions weigh down our hearts with despondency, when delighting in anything feels out of reach, when apathy threatens to preclude our defense against sin—the Word is our shield and our sword (see Psalm 28:7, Eph. 6). Get out of bed in the morning and head straight for your Bible.
Meditation on the Word is a huge help here because it’s through God’s words that we begin to love what He loves and to desire what He desires. Biblical meditation—literally translated mumbling aloud—can be exercised through Scripture memorization. When my emotions are dragging, when my heart feels cold or inexplicably down, recitation of the Word fills in the gaps. When you don’t know what to say to yourself in times of discouragement, speak the words you most need to hear: Scripture. Not your internal dialogue (which likely isn’t helping anyway), but the words of the Lord. Over and over again. Write out some passages and keep them taped to your steering wheel, above the kitchen sink, on the bathroom mirror, in a ziploc bag taped to the shower wall.
Second, God has given us access to Him through prayer. “Pray without ceasing,” we’re advised in Scripture (1 Thess. 5:17). When I’m struggling with discouragement (whether of external or internal origins), I find it helpful to take extra times throughout the day to stop for the sole purpose of talking to the Lord about how I’m feeling. Sometimes it’s as simple as, “Lord, help me to know that You are enough for me.” Sometimes it’s a plea to love Him more. Sometimes it’s a prayer to stir my affections for Him by naming the ways He has loved me. It’s speaking the gospel out loud to Him so that I remember it. Pray often. Especially when you don’t want to. Set alarms on your phone to remind you to pray, if you have to. Train your heart to go to the Lord until it’s your default response.
Third, God has given us the Church. When we’re struggling, the body of Christ is there to encourage us and steer us to the Lord. This means you’ll have to share your struggles with others. It means you’ll have talk to others when you don’t feel like it. But when you invite your church family into your fight for you, you’ll be giving them a means to carry out the command to “Bear one another’s burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2). And oh, what a gift to have others carry a corner of your burden!
Talking through your joylessness with another believer might be helpful in examining the root cause. With the help of a believer you trust, evaluate your input. Are you filling your head and heart with things that cultivate joy or joylessness? Is it too much entertainment? Too much information? Maybe it’s not even the wrong kind of those things but just too much in general. Creating some white space in your head can be helpful in drowning out the things that compete for our affections. If there’s no room for thoughts about God or talking to God or thinking about God, perhaps you’ve made room for too much of the wrong kind of input. What will feed your joy? What will starve it?
Lastly, God has given us Himself. We have the Spirit living in us, and He hasn’t departed when we feel that joy has. God is with us in our fight for joy. Remember that strength to persevere through the doldrums of discouragement is anchored firmly to joy in Christ. To remember that joy, we have to turn our faces away from ourselves and toward the One in whom lasting joy is rooted. The sky will clear again. The deluge of despair will lift. But until it does, fight to look at Him no matter what.
Photo by Gabriele Diwald on Unsplash
[1] John Piper. When I Don’t Desire God: How to Fight for Joy. (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2013), 81.
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.