It was Christmas Eve, and I wanted to be happy… but wanting doesn’t make it so. I was tired. I was anxious. I was ready for the day to be over the minute it started. Those of you who know me well know that this isn’t like me. The holidays are usually a life-giving time, but for some reason, the anxiety and pressure from the doings left no time for being.
I got a call to pick up a package, so I begrudgingly trudged to the post to get it. When I came back to my apartment, I noticed it was a UPS package — I wasn’t expecting anything. I opened it up and found this yellow hat, sent by one of my dearest friends in the whole world. I began to cry. The color yellow — my reminder to be joyful. Despite this reminder, however, I still struggled that day to find peace in my head and joy in my heart.
Fast-forward to today– ooooh buddy, it was one of those “I’ve had it” sort of days. While not full of misery, enough had happened to put my emotions on the edge of a cliff. I knew I had to be still, so I went into quiet hiding.
That exposition was super long — here’s the meat:
I stood in my kitchen, sobbing, while the majesty of God knocked me senseless. He’s here. He’s real. Sometimes that reality just cuts you to the quick and you lose it, you know? The reality that there is a God who loves us so deeply that He came to be with us…to suffer in our place… to become sin who knew no sin… who gave us His spirit so that we’ll never be alone or powerless ever again. What a truth to rest in, and what a hope to anchor ourselves to.
After my kitchen weepy-fest, He drew me to Isaiah 61:3:
“[He came] to comfort those who mourn, to give them a beautiful crown instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit.”
What a glorious thing to ponder. Literally, joyful oil dripping down our face in His Presence, while wearing a beautiful crown that carries our identity as sons and daughters of the Most High. Not only that, but we are clothed in righteousness…gorgeous garments that we can freely twirl and spin and dance wildly in… with a spirit so desperate and hungry for Him that nothing else in this world matters. I got super poetic here, but come on now…can’t you just see it?
When I put on the yellow hat again, I saw the crown and the oil. Beyond that, I saw that I can’t manufacture gladness in myself. Force of will can’t produce what only His Presence can offer. I can’t praise when I’m clinging to my own selfishness and striving. I can’t be free to dance when I’m sitting in the ashes of my disappointments and anxiety.
We are sons and daughters, crowned with the glorious hope and knowledge of Christ, smothered with the unquenchable love of a perfect Father, and drenched in purest joy that can’t come from any other place except the throne room of heaven. How marvelous, and yet how quickly I forget this truth… Oh Jesus, help me to remember.