To empathize with the loss of another is not to negate the joy you can offer.
Last weekend, Josh wanted to celebrate our fourth wedding anniversary by allowing me to do one thing I love: thrift shop. There's a timeless peace that embodies antiques, a threshold of historical stories and wonders held in something as simple as a candlestick or teddy bear. As a writer, editor, and author, stories are a portal to my greatest purpose, an ink-and-page wonder that God uses to make me feel whole.
This is my sweet, heavenly spot.
I racked up that day, bagging scrabble-game letters, a yellow teapot, a bright red button, blue coffee mugs, and more. Hauling these beauties home, I decided to give new life to my old Etsy page. I staged the pieces, offered them wonderous descriptions of alliteration and storytelling, and published them for all the world to discover. HopefulHunt, that's what I renamed this digital shop. A place for pieces and peace to meet, a small space tucked in the corners of the internet where hope can thrive for weary souls in the simple things of life.
So excited to share the relaunch of my store, I logged onto Facebook, ready to copy, paste, and post the link to HopefulHunt, but immediately, a twinge of guilt gnawed at my soul. While Ukraine's women were wondering where they would find proper pre-natal care, feminine hygiene products, food, safety, and hope, I was floating on a cloud high above their gloomy world, thinking the best thing I could share that day was a polka-dot mug.
Am I wrong to be happy while Ukraine is in chaos? I thought.
This convicting idea bounces around in the back of my head as I huff and puff when Starbucks doesn't fill my order correctly, when the craft store doesn't have an acrylic roller, when my dogs act like hoodlums on our afternoon walk. Meanwhile, as I pout, images of bombs bursting through apartments, babies tucked away in underground hospital units, neighborhoods laying in ruins, scatter throughout my mind. They re-ground me, calling me to a heart of thankfulness and a desire to serve better, to live more intentionally.
Yet, even when my headspace is pure, just, focused on what matters most, is it selfish to be joyful amid a world of chaos and turmoil?
I don't know the answer, at least not aside from Scripture. And with my honest ignorance serving no purpose, I, instead, offer you God's words as navigation for such a bleak, confusing time for the world. As a believer that God's timeline suspends reality, offering light and hope in the spaces we navigate, I am called to acknowledge that His timing is quite truly everything.
Just that morning, right before prepping to post my Etsy page, one of my devotional's key Scriptures for the day was Psalm 9:10, which reads, "The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble."
Eager, I read the bigger picture, the whole Psalm:
I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart;
I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.
2 I will be glad and rejoice in you;
I will sing the praises of your name, O Most High.
3 My enemies turn back;
they stumble and perish before you.
4 For you have upheld my right and my cause,
sitting enthroned as the righteous judge.
5 You have rebuked the nations and destroyed the wicked;
you have blotted out their name for ever and ever.
6 Endless ruin has overtaken my enemies,
you have uprooted their cities;
even the memory of them has perished.
7 The Lord reigns forever;
he has established his throne for judgment.
8 He rules the world in righteousness
and judges the peoples with equity.
9 The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed,
a stronghold in times of trouble.
10 Those who know your name trust in you,
for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you.
11 Sing the praises of the Lord, enthroned in Zion;
proclaim among the nations what he has done.
12 For he who avenges blood remembers;
he does not ignore the cries of the afflicted.
13 Lord, see how my enemies persecute me!
Have mercy and lift me up from the gates of death,
14 that I may declare your praises
in the gates of Daughter Zion,
and there rejoice in your salvation.
15 The nations have fallen into the pit they have dug;
their feet are caught in the net they have hidden.
16 The Lord is known by his acts of justice;
the wicked are ensnared by the work of their hands.[c]
17 The wicked go down to the realm of the dead,
all the nations that forget God.
18 But God will never forget the needy;
the hope of the afflicted will never perish.
19 Arise, Lord, do not let mortals triumph;
let the nations be judged in your presence.
20 Strike them with terror, Lord;
let the nations know they are only mortal.
Three phrases throughout this Psalm stung my heart in a convicting yet purifying way, calling me to discover whether or not joy can be accessed while others are troubled:
1. "He does not ignore the cries of the inflicted."
David writes this Psalm amid war. In verse 12, the battle is waging, calling him to fumble his way through prayers of confusion but wonder, words of fear yet truth. He knows God is good, and while his circumstances don't seem to fit this mold, he's reaffirming that God doesn't forget man. Better yet, He's not numb to the terrors they face.
God is personal, detail-oriented, intricate in thought and deed. Each season, both blossoming and fading, serves an eternal purpose if we allow it. So, if God creates rhythm and reason behind air raids and political tyrants, He creates purpose amid the fields of flowers and songs of birds. He allows both good and bad to meet so good can triumph. To empathize with the loss of another is not to negate the joy you can offer. In fact, there's power in not only acknowledging darkness but in holding light to its face.
Of course, my Etsy shop won't fix Ukraine. I can't brew an earl gray tea in my yellow teapot to solve world hunger. Nay, a red button won't do much good for anyone, if I'm being honest. Yet, creating hope in simple things is the first step to combatting the darkness among big things. When we allow joy to thrive in our souls, it instigates honorable war against sin's war, giving the Holy Spirit room to flood the darkest countries with His bright hope.
2. "The Lord is known by his acts of justice."
God is just. Often, we can't balance the scale between love and just. We use the first as a religious scapegoat to cover up our white lies and the latter as means to judge another. But here, in verse 16, God is just because He doesn't white-wash reality. Sin is sin and righteousness is righteousness. He doesn't form a jury of 12 angels to dictate whether or not Ukraine needs justice. He knows justice is a necessity for them, and He will supply such justice. Of course, a fallen world is subject to sin and ruthless leaders; we can't deny that. Yet, we also can't forgo God's victorious character, a sort of character that steps inside the chaos to ensure evil falls and righteousness prevails.
Meanwhile, is it just for me to find joy on my safe American soil? Is it unjust for me to post a sad clip of Ukraine's state yet go about my day watching funny dog videos and treating myself to another cake pop? Hmmm, that's a good question, no doubt. But, I believe the infamous fruits of the spirit offer fresh insight. Galatians 5:22-23 says, "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law."
I've never paid much attention to the last sentence: "Against such things there is no law." But in today's world, current circumstances cause me to pause. Against love, joyfulness, peace, etc., there is no law and order, no proper rule, no justice, for the souls of mankind. Even further, while we label these attributes as "fruits", Scripture calls it "fruit." There's only one fruit God's Spirit gives us, which means we are to encompass all of its attributes. To be love, the sort of love that chooses to bear another's war-stricken burden, we must also be joy.
This leads me to believe that joy is inseparable from justice. We are called to reconcile with God, to find that unique joy and peace for our soul, which not only saves us from the enemy but allows us to supply others with joy, one of God's unstoppable weapons of war.
When we have joy, we can enjoy the dog videos. We can eat the cake pop. Yet, true joy also calls us to share. It calls us to be the reason someone else believes it's safe to laugh again. It demands that we share our food with the poor, naked, and homeless. We can find happiness in subtle things like the sunrise, and yet, joy says, "Be that bright light to someone today."
Happiness is okay right now. There's nothing wrong with fleeting smiles, but allow the stirring of your soul, the joy that keeps your world grounded, to be the reason that life, even amid war, has long-lasting purpose for those who are suffering.
3. "Let the nations know they are only mortal."
In verse 20, David wants God to remind his foes that they, too, will die. They can't escape eternity, regardless of their soldier-esque stature on earth. Meanwhile, I believe it crucial that we, too, recall just how finite we are. Though this might seem gray and uneasy, as Christians, death is only access to glorious life, an eternal abode where grief will be no more.
For now, though, while we are still here, safe on our soil but watching Ukraine fight for their lives, I leave you with a simple verse: "She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future" Proverbs 31:25 (NLT).
We highlight this verse when discussing the Virtuous Woman, but it's meant for all, both man and woman, adult and child, black and white, rich and poor. Despite a future that looks ravaged with war and selfish dictatorships, we are quite truly called to laugh amid the crisis. This doesn't mean we are to make fun of the circumstance or haphazardly joke about the gut-wrenching realities of another nation. Instead, it means we are to be so fearless, so sure of our God, that we know He will reign true. He will never let the righteous turn to ruins. And meanwhile, because our souls are set for all eternity, we can step into another's season of war and heartache and offer joy, the kind that allows everyone to laugh, calling everyone to remember that God's goodness is immortal. It's forever ready for us to share—starting now.
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