Strength for Today
Week Ten: Finding Joy Before the Miracle
“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!”
~Philippians 4:4 (NIV)
Have you ever caught yourself saying: “I’ll be happy when…”
When this situation is finally resolved.
When the answer comes.
When things calm down.
When the bills are paid.
When the relationship gets better.
When the diagnosis changes.
When the door opens.
When the kids get through this season.
When work slows down.
When the prayer is answered.
When life finally looks a little more like the life you thought you’d be living.
I have; and if I’m being completely truthful, sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it. I just quietly move joy a little further down the road.
Not today. Maybe later.
After this deadline.
After this problem.
After this season.
After the miracle.
But lately I’ve been wondering: How much of the life God has already given us are we missing while we wait for the life we’re asking Him to give us?
We keep moving the finish line
We keep moving the finish line
There is almost always something we're waiting to get through. (I know this because I am a list person). I love a good list! There is something deeply satisfying about checking things off one by one, and then there are days when I swear my to-do list has been reproducing when I'm not looking. Haha! You finish three things and somehow there are seven more. So you tell yourself: “Once I get everything done, then I’ll relax.” Except everything is never done.
There's another email.
Another load of laundry.
Another bill.
Another appointment.
Another responsibility.
Another person who needs something.
Another problem to solve.
And if we aren't careful, we begin treating joy the same way. I'll enjoy my life when everything settles down.
But what if everything doesn't settle down for a while?
What if the prayer takes longer than expected?
What if the situation we're waiting to change doesn't change this week?
Or this month?
Or even this year?
Do we postpone joy indefinitely?
Paul said “rejoice” from prison
Paul said “rejoice” from prison
Philippians 4:4 is one of those verses many of us know: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!”
It looks beautiful on a mug. It sounds wonderful on a greeting card; but context matters. Paul wasn't writing those words while sitting somewhere peaceful with everything in his life going according to plan.
He was writing from imprisonment.
His circumstances were uncertain.
His freedom was limited.
His future was not neatly mapped out.
And still: Rejoice.
That doesn't mean Paul was pretending prison was pleasant. It doesn't mean suffering suddenly became good; and it certainly doesn't mean Christians are supposed to walk around smiling through pain and acting as though difficult things don't hurt.
Biblical joy isn't denial.
It isn't pretending.
And it isn't forced happiness.
Paul's joy was rooted somewhere deeper than his circumstances.
Notice what he said: “Rejoice in the Lord.”
Not rejoice because everything is easy.
Not rejoice because every prayer has been answered.
Not rejoice because you finally got the outcome you wanted.
Rejoice in the Lord.
Our circumstances change. God does not. Perhaps that's why joy can exist even before the miracle.
Joy and sorrow can sit at the same table
Joy and sorrow can sit at the same table
I think sometimes we misunderstand joy because we assume it must replace sadness.
If I'm grieving, I can't be joyful.
If I'm disappointed, I can't be grateful.
If I'm worried, I can't laugh.
If something in my life is genuinely hard, enjoying something good almost feels wrong.
Scripture doesn't ask us to choose between honesty and joy. There are seasons when both exist.
You can miss someone terribly and still laugh at something funny.
You can be waiting for an answer and still enjoy dinner with your family.
You can be worried about tomorrow and still thank God for something beautiful today.
You can cry in the morning and laugh that afternoon.
One doesn't invalidate the other. Joy does not require the absence of sorrow.
Sometimes joy simply says:
“This is hard and God is still good.”
“I wish this were different and there is still something beautiful here.”
“I am still waiting and I am still grateful.”
Maybe joy isn't always a celebration. Sometimes it's simply noticing.
Don't make the miracle responsible for your joy
Don't make the miracle responsible for your joy
This one challenges me, because sometimes we attach so much emotional weight to the thing we're praying for.
When God answers this, I'll finally have peace.
When this changes, I'll finally be happy.
When that door opens, I'll finally feel like I'm moving forward.
But that's an enormous responsibility to place on one outcome, because what happens after the answer?
Eventually, there will be another problem.
Another prayer.
Another unknown.
Another not yet.
If our joy depends entirely on circumstances cooperating, then circumstances will always control it; and maybe that's why God continually calls us back to Himself.
Not because our desires don't matter: they do.
Not because we shouldn't pray for change: we should.
But because no answered prayer was ever meant to become the source of what only God can ultimately provide.
We can desperately want the miracle, without asking the miracle to become our God.
Last week we talked about “not yet”
Last week we talked about “not yet”
Last week, we talked about what happens when we've prayed and the answer is still: Not yet. We talked about living in the hallway between the prayer and the answer, and there's something else about that hallway.
Life is happening there.
People you love are there.
Conversations are happening there.
Meals are being shared there.
Sunsets are happening there.
Children are growing there.
Friendships are deepening there.
Coffee is being poured there.
There are ordinary Tuesday evenings there.
There is laughter there.
There is grace there.
God is there.
And suddenly I find myself asking: What if I spend so much time staring at the door I'm waiting for God to open that I miss everything He's already placed in the hallway?
Friend, I don't want to do that. I don't want to arrive at an answered prayer someday only to realize I wished away the life I lived while waiting for it.
Gratitude brings us back to today
Gratitude brings us back to today
Gratitude has a beautiful way of interrupting our obsession with when. It brings us back to: now. Not everything is good, but there is still good. That distinction matters.
Gratitude doesn't require us to call painful things blessings. It simply refuses to let painful things become the only things we can see.
Maybe today was exhausting, but someone made you laugh.
Maybe you're still waiting for healing, but your body carried you through another day.
Maybe work is overwhelming, but there was a warm cup of coffee sitting beside you while you tackled it.
Maybe you're worried about someone you love, but today you got to hear their voice.
Maybe your prayer still hasn't been answered, but God gave you enough strength to make it through today.
Sometimes gratitude is enormous, and sometimes it's: “Thank You, Lord, for this cup of coffee because You and I both knew I was going to need it.”
It all counts.
Jesus noticed ordinary gifts too
Jesus noticed ordinary gifts too
Jesus lived with an awareness of what was right in front of Him.
He noticed people others overlooked.
He welcomed children.
He ate meals with people.
He went to weddings.
He rested.
He gave thanks for bread.
He noticed birds and flowers and fields.
Think about that. The Savior of the world knew exactly what awaited Him, and still He noticed lilies.
Maybe we've made spiritual life too complicated at times. Perhaps part of walking with God is simply learning to notice what He has already placed around us.
The meal.
The friend.
The laughter.
The quiet moment.
The flower blooming beside the road.
The text that arrived at exactly the right time.
The song that made you stop.
The person sitting across from you.
The ordinary goodness we might miss if we're always looking ahead.
Joy is not betrayal
Joy is not betrayal
Someone may need this part.
Maybe you're walking through something genuinely painful, and you've had a good moment. Then you felt guilty for enjoying it.
Maybe you laughed while grieving.
Maybe you enjoyed yourself while someone you love was struggling.
Maybe for an hour you forgot about the thing that has been consuming your thoughts, and then you remembered, and somehow the joy felt wrong.
Friend, joy is not betrayal.
You are allowed to laugh while you're healing.
You are allowed to enjoy a meal while you're waiting.
You are allowed to celebrate someone else's good news while you're still praying for your own.
You are allowed to notice beauty in a difficult chapter.
You are allowed to have a good day in the middle of a hard season.
Joy does not mean you have forgotten what hurts. It means pain does not get to own every room in your heart.
Maybe the miracle isn't the starting line
Sometimes we treat the thing we're waiting for like the starting line of our lives.
When this happens... then I'll begin.
Then I'll travel.
Then I'll celebrate.
Then I'll wear the outfit.
Then I'll invite people over.
Then I'll take the picture.
Then I'll try something new.
Then I'll enjoy myself.
Then I'll thank God.
But what if today matters too? What if this version of your life - the unfinished one, the complicated one, the one with unanswered questions, is still worthy of being lived?
You don't need permission from tomorrow to enjoy today.
You don't need every loose end tied up before you thank God.
You don't need the miracle before you begin noticing the goodness already around you.
Joy can be an act of faith
Joy can be an act of faith
Maybe joy isn't only an emotion. Sometimes it is a choice to notice God's goodness before circumstances give us a reason to celebrate. It's saying: “God, I still want this to change, but I refuse to miss You while I wait.” That's different from pretending.
We aren't saying: “Everything is wonderful.”
We're saying: “Everything isn't wonderful, but God is still worthy.”
We're not saying: “I don't care whether this prayer is answered.”
We're saying: “I care deeply, but this unanswered prayer will not become the only thing I see.”
We're not saying: “I'm never sad.”
We're saying: “Sorrow is here, but sorrow isn't here alone.”
There is hope here too.
There is gratitude here too.
There is love here too.
There is laughter here too.
Jesus is here too.
Finding joy before the miracle
Finding joy before the miracle
Maybe your miracle comes tomorrow. Maybe it comes next year. Maybe God's answer looks entirely different from what you're expecting. I don't know. What I do know, is that today is already here, and today is a gift we don't get back.
So drink the coffee while it's hot.
Call the person.
Take the picture.
Wear the thing you've been saving.
Sit outside for ten minutes.
Turn the music up.
Laugh loudly.
Notice the sunset.
Tell someone you love them.
Celebrate the small victory.
Thank God for the ordinary.
And yes...
Keep praying for the miracle.
Keep believing God is able.
Keep bringing Him the thing your heart longs for.
But don't postpone living until the answer comes.
Joy is not the reward waiting for us at the end of a difficult season. Sometimes joy is one of the ways God carries us through it.
Maybe the prayer for this week isn't: “Lord, make everything better so I can have joy.”
Maybe it's: “Lord, help me recognize the joy You've already placed here.”
Because sometimes the miracle hasn't happened yet.
The prayer is still unanswered.
The door is still closed.
The story is still unfinished.
And yet...
There is something beautiful sitting right in front of us.
Don't miss it.
🌿This Week's Reflection
Ask yourself: Have I been postponing joy until something in my life changes?
What have I been telling myself must happen before I can really enjoy this season?
Is there something good in my life right now that I've stopped noticing because I'm so focused on what is still unresolved?
And perhaps the more difficult question: If the answer doesn't come tomorrow, can I still receive tomorrow as a gift?
Sit with that one for a little while.
✍️ Journal Prompt
At the top of your page, write: “I've been telling myself I'll be happy when...” Finish the sentence honestly.
Then write: “But today, God has already given me...”
Don't rush. Look around your actual life. Write down five things. They don't have to be profound.
A person.
A conversation.
A meal.
A comfortable bed.
A sunrise.
A funny text.
A cup of coffee.
A moment of peace.
Then finish with: “While I continue praying for __________, I don't want to miss __________.”
Let both things be true.
You can still long for what hasn't happened, while thanking God for what already has.
🙏 A Prayer
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for today. Not the day we're hoping will come. Not the day when every prayer is answered and every problem is solved.
This day. Thank You for meeting us here.
Forgive us for the times we've postponed gratitude because life didn't look the way we wanted it to.
Forgive us for becoming so focused on what is missing that we stopped noticing what You've already given us.
Teach us to recognize Your goodness in ordinary places.
Help us notice the people You've placed around us.
The laughter.
The conversations.
The quiet moments.
The small victories.
The daily provision.
The beauty we rush past.
Father, You know what we're still waiting for.
We bring those prayers to You again.
We don't pretend they don't matter.
We don't pretend waiting doesn't hurt.
We don't pretend everything is okay when it isn't.
But we refuse to believe that joy must wait until everything changes.
Give us joy rooted in You rather than our circumstances. For the person walking through deep sorrow, be especially gentle with their heart.
Let joy find them without guilt.
Let laughter come without shame.
Let moments of beauty remind them that pain has not been given permission to take everything.
For the person who has been saying, “I'll start living when...” Please bring them back to today.
Help us live the life You've given us while continuing to trust You with the life we're asking for.
May we keep praying for the miracle, while refusing to miss Your presence before it comes.
In Jesus' name,
Amen
🌿 A Blessing for Your Week
May you notice something beautiful this week that you might normally have rushed past.
May you laugh without guilt.
Rest without feeling that you must earn it.
Celebrate without waiting for everything to be perfect.
May gratitude bring you back from tomorrow's worries into today's grace.
May you continue praying boldly for what your heart longs for while holding today's gifts with open hands.
If the miracle hasn't happened yet, may you discover that God has not left the space before it empty.
He is there.
Grace is there.
Goodness is there.
Life is there,
And yes... JOY can still be there!
Until next Tuesday...
With grace, coffee & leggings,
☕ZQueenBee
9/29/2026