Not an inner experience that you can manipulate yourself into having.

Joy isn’t primarily something that you do to yourself, but something that is done to you. Joy is an internal reaction to some sort of outside, external stimulus. Joy is an effect, not a cause.

Joy often eludes you when you try to go directly it it.

You don’t have enough time.

You don’t have enough money.

You don’t have enough energy.

You don’t have enough resources.

“Very truly I tell you, you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on’ the Son of Man.”

John 1:51

This was Jesus’ premise to skeptical Nathanael. A bit of a strange thing to say on the face of it. Unless, of course, (like Nathanael probably was), you’re familiar with the story of Jacob’s wild dream:

A staircase. Stretching from the earth up into the heavens. Angels going up and down, back and forth between heaven and earth. And then God himself standing at the top, promising to multiply Jacob’s descendents beyond measure. (You can read the whole dream in Genesis 28).

It’s all about heaven and earth being intimately connected, about a God’s blessings pouring out over the entire earth.

But smaller is not better either.

Bigger is not harder to bear than small. Each requires a different strategy to bear it well.

Bigger can be unsustainable. Smaller can also be unsustainable. Thankfully, both can also be sustainable.

Because sin is not a private problem. Sin is a communal problem, so we need a communal solution.

Because salvation isn’t done in secret. Salvation is a public event, drawing the attention of those still held captive so that they too can call on Jesus.

Because when our story is graciously intersected and interrupted by Jesus, that story simply must be told to someone. Anyone who might listen.

Time.

On one hand, it is a resource. Resources are to be managed. Used judiciously and wisely. We get the most out of them when we are a little bit cut-throat with our yesses and nos. We know there is a short supply, so we focus and strategize.

The most formative years of my spiritual life–as a congregant, as a leader, as a pastor–have been spent swimming in a pond where it’s common to hear something along the lines of, “It’s all about relationship!” It punctuates sermons. It graces the covers of church bulletins. You hear it in pitches for membership classes or small groups. It’s probably all over bumper stickers and Instagram feeds. That sells pretty well, I think.

When you’re stuck in making a decision, maybe flipping a coin isn’t a test not of gravity and physics, but of God’s sovereignty. A test of whether or not we truly believe in God’s sovereignty. Here’s the power of it: leaving something to apparent chance removes me from the equation of decision-making. It nullifies the influence of my biases, my desires, my attachments.

Having the right answers is not the same thing as having the right character.

Knowing the truth is not the same thing as living truthfully.

It does little good to have a wide open front door, but a heart that is closed off. If your door is open to new people, but your heart is shut tight, that’s not hospitality–it’s toleration. And they’ll pick up on it. You are permitting someone to be in your space, but you don’t really want them in your space.