Nancy drove me down to Bachman Park again today. As soon as we arrived, a sea lion poked his head out of the water, taking a quick gander at the day’s beauty, and then slipped back in the water. The day was sunny with a china-fragile blue sky overhead, silver slivers of sunlight shimmering on the water, and waves lapping gently on the pebble beach. Seagulls cavorted overhead. Groups of six or seven cormorants skimmed across the water as if late for an appointment, wings flapping frantically. I wondered again where they were going in such a hurry. Two more sea lions swam past, one with a massive head—and body that followed.

I asked Nancy if she wanted to get out of the car and sit on the wrought iron bench at the top of a short flight of concrete steps leading to the beach. “If it’s not too cold for you, Grant.” Still sporting my winter wool coat, I eased out of the car, walked down to the bench, and sat down. Nancy followed, sitting beside me, wrapping me around with her arm. The Bremerton Fast Ferry headed past on its way to Bremerton. Soon after the ferry was out of sight, large waves came crashing on the beach, the gravel sounding a wet rattling, pebbles rolling with each wave.

Sitting there, even with the day’s migraine slowly rising in the right side of my head, yet encircled in Nancy’s arm, I felt deeply loved—by Nancy and by the Creator who had set before me such a breathtaking scene: the shimmering water, the blue sky, the sea lions and cormorants, and Nancy by my side!

Like the sheepdogs of his goodness and mercy, a loose snippet of a verse has been pursuing me, “for the joy set before Him, Jesus endured the cross.” What joy wasn’t already His from before the beginning of creation—one with the Father and the Spirit? King of kings, Lord of Lord, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace!”

I am dumbstruck at the realization that you and I are the joy set before Jesus, for which He endured the cross, despising its shame, so that He could bring us home into the everlasting embrace of His love. His joy is in having us! What brings Jesus joy is seeing the lost come home, waiting for us to come to our senses that He might kill the fatted calf and declare, ‘For this daughter of mine, this son of mine was dead and has come to life again; she was lost and has been found.’ And when a lost daughter or son is welcomed home, “there is joy in the presence of God’s angels over one sinner who has a change of mind.” Whose joy? God’s joy, Jesus’ joy—in the presence of the angels!

So, the joy of Jesus springs from His great love with which He’s loved us. He rejoiced over you when you were made in the secret place, when you were woven together while yet in your mother’s womb. He sings over you through the watches of the night—a lullaby of love from on high. He delights in you and cherishes you! You are His beloved! He carries you on His shoulders like the Good Shepherd carries a lamb sprung from His hands. God shows on display His love for you, that while you were grievously missing the mark—living in rebellion against God—Jesus willingly spilled His blood, giving up His spirit, giving up His very life, all for the love of you! His joy is being so for you that nothing can be against you. And nothing in all of creation—no nothing—will be able to separate you from His love. His love for you brings Him joy, and so, the joy of the Lord is our strength.

The question arises, “If Jesus so loves you, Grant, then why is He allowing so much heartache and pain to befall you?” Yet, how would I ever know the immeasurable and boundless reaches of His love, a knowing that goes beyond knowledge, if it weren’t for the severity of these times when all I have is the sustaining power of His love and grace?

Just before dinnertime, the migraine had escalated to an eight out of ten on the Richter scale of pain. I could hear Nancy preparing dinner in the kitchen. Sitting at the table in the dining room, I broke into tears, which disintegrated into sobs. I quickly hurried into the other room so Nancy wouldn’t have to see my pain. Yet, in the silence of that space, all I had was Jesus, His comforting love for me, and His joy, my strength.

The joy of the Lord is that He is irreversibly and unswervingly for us! His desire is for you to know the unfathomable and boundless reaches of His love—the “how wide and long and high and deep love of Christ.” He rejoices as you come to know His kind and gentle heart. He is overjoyed when you come to believe His love for you, making yourself at home in His love! Jesus rejoices in the presence of awestruck angels when one lost has allowed Him to lead them home. You are His joy, and I am His joy! And so, the joy of the Lord is our strength, because I know whatever befalls us, He is ever for us, and His gracious and tender presence always with us!

2 Corinthians 4:7 (RSV) “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.”