My word of the year for 2020 was ‘joy’.

By February I had been to four funerals – Andrew, Art, Jeff, and Liz. I remember sharing on Instagram that it felt mean that my word and my year seemed at odds with one another. I shared with you I’d been asking the Lord, begging Him to explain why on earth my word was ‘joy’ if the year had begun that way.

A few months later, I understood clearly why ‘joy’ would be imperative for the year.The difference between happiness and joy seems easy enough to pen from what you find in the dictionary, but how can your heart learn to recognize the difference? How can the heart be taught to cling to joy when happiness disappeared, buried by the news of a pandemic, racial unrest, and death? And where does the joy come from?

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. James 1:2-3

It took me an entire year to understand that it wasn’t the difference between the words happiness and joy that I needed to understand. Instead, it was the Giver of Joy that I needed to cling to. Where was my joy coming from? What well could I draw from where there seemed no joy to be found.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Galatians 5:22.

Articulating the difference between joy and happiness still does not come easily to me, which I find frustrating, but my heart has grown in childlike understanding that the Lord has taken my trials and as I praise Him anyway, a predictable, steady path wears into a rut in my soul. Imagine you are looking into a field with me. You notice a small path where someone has pressed down the grass as they wander to the other side. This year, that path has become a well worn, sometimes muddy, consistent way through.

So, there I found the first part – sameness. Always sloughing through the same path towards the same end – getting my heart to a place where it could look to Him.

And then, the second part was there waiting for me – The Holy Spirit. Already uncovered and easy. Pouring His joy out like honey for all to smell and see and taste. Thick of perfume that doesn’t wash off easily.

In my very clumsy way, this year taught me that when I need joy and when I want something consistent; not just something when I hear my favorite dancing song on the radio or stuff my face with Dove chocolates or clean until the counter is empty; not something that I feel when I win an argument or feel understood by all, I will always find it waiting for me at the end of a consistent search for His peace and rest.