Fresh Joy. Heidi McLaughlin
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it does mean you don’t have to walk through the storms alone. You’ll have someone interceding for you, strengthening you, giving you hope, and reminding you of your purpose and ability to unleash the beautiful fruit of the spirit—the fruit of joy.
Cindy Keating:
Bad News Blues and Celebrating Everything
Cindy Keating is a friend I meet for coffee every couple of months to share the ups and downs of being an author. When she shared her story of 47 book proposal rejections, I was blown away by the way she handled it. Here are her words:
It was a simple challenge, or so I thought. My theme word for the year had sparked a practical idea for a way for my family and me to celebrate our simple life moments together throughout the year. “We’ll light a sparkler,” I said. “We’ll talk about all the things that happen so we can decide together what to acknowledge as extra special. This will be a good way for us to celebrate the things that are meaningful to each of us in different ways.”
“But what kinds of things should we notice?” my eldest asked.
“Anything!” I replied. “We can celebrate how hard you studied for a spelling test. We can celebrate the completion of one of your piano pieces. We can celebrate how kind you were to a friend at school or how respectful you’re being to your teacher. It can be anything!” Everyone was on board. I knew it was going to be a great learning opportunity for all of us.
The email opened with “Dear Cindy, I’m sorry to say”—and my heart sank. I closed my computer immediately and didn’t even bother reading the rest of the email because I knew what it would say. This was my forty-seventh rejection. All rejection emails were the same, and even though I thought I was used to the dismissals, for some reason this one still stung.
As I sat there discouraged, contemplating what to do next, a sparkler flashed through my mind. With God’s perfect timing, I knew exactly what to do. I marched upstairs.
“Boys, we’re lighting a sparkler for Mommy’s book!” I exclaimed.
“What? Are you serious? Has an agent contacted you?” my husband enthusiastically asked.
“Does someone like your book, Mommy?” my youngest squealed as he jumped around the kitchen.
“Good job, Mommy!” my eldest piped in while flinging open the cupboard to find a sparkler. I quieted them and motioned for them to sit down at the kitchen table. Then I proceeded to tell them what had happened. Naturally, my husband was sad for me, but my kids? Their confused expressions were priceless. “You want to celebrate your rejection?” they sang in unison. I was second-guessing the idea, but I knew it was a teachable moment too beautiful to ignore.
“Sometimes celebrating the meaningful things in our lives won’t always involve happy emotions,” I explained. “Mommy’s not happy she got rejected. In fact, I’m sad that the journey is taking longer than I thought, and I’m realizing how hard the road really is. But I am happy that I can come upstairs, tell you guys how I feel, and know that, no matter what any agent says or thinks about me as a writer, you guys will still love and support me. I think that’s something worth celebrating, don’t you?”
The conversation that followed brought tears to my eyes. This simple challenge, which we started as a family a few short months ago, had suddenly turned into a deeply touching and profoundly moving journey about true joy and the power of celebrating all moments in our lives.
“Okay, I know!” offered my eldest. “We can celebrate how hard you’ve been working for these agents.”
“And we can celebrate how kind and respectful you’re being even though your heart is hurting, Mommy,” my youngest suggested.
My husband chimed in, “And we can celebrate the profound influence you’re having on your boys’ lives right now—mine included.”
So that’s exactly what we celebrated.
We lit four sparklers that day because that’s what joy does—it flips discouragement, rejection, sadness, confusion, and heaviness right side up and upside down and graciously offers us a fresh perspective and a whole new way to view and live in the world.5
Grow Your Joy
After I heard Cindy’s story, I was amazed that, 47 rejections later, Cindy was still writing, smiling, and trusting that God would connect her with the right publisher. That’s what thankfulness does. It elevates our thoughts to a higher level and takes the stance that, despite what life throws at us, we can choose to stay joyful.
1. Get rid of stuff. A large part of our present generation is obsessed with shopping and having more. “I’ll be happy when I have __________.” And so we shop and stockpile, rent off-site containers or storage sheds, and fill and label Tupperware boxes until we lose sight of all we have. But here’s the hard news: overabundance robs us of joy. Instead of enjoying our stuff, we become stuff managers. Excess stuff confuses and distracts us, and the more we have, the less we value what we have.
Growing up, I had two pairs of shoes: one pair for school and the other for church. I wonder if other parents also said, as mine did, “Heidi, pick up your feet. Don’t scuff your shoes.” I still remember the smell of the shoe polish when it was brought out of the cupboard every Saturday to polish our shoes. Today, I have over 50 pairs of shoes, but I probably don’t value them as much as I should, because I can always go and buy more. The pleasure of acquisition is fleeting. Soon, the next purchase becomes another piece to dust, to keep track of, or to organize. Overabundance destroys value. We need to get rid of our excess stuff, simplify our life, be thankful, and enjoy what we have.
Kerry and Chris Shook, in their book One Month to Live, express that point so clearly: “When we are thankful, we become content and full of the peace that only He can provide. Focusing on how grateful we are for what we have prevents us from becoming bitter and greedy for more.”6
2. Learn to be content. To grow joy, we must learn to be thankful for what we have in the moment. The apostle Paul endured beatings, shipwrecks, hunger, and spiritual storms while he was in chains for Christ. When he wrote the letter to the Philippians, he wasn’t sitting on a beach in Maui, but still he exclaimed, “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation” (Phil. 4:12). Wow. To be content with whatever we have is a learned process. It does not come naturally. But if we’re always on the lookout for temporary happiness, we won’t find ultimate contentment. Why? Because happiness demands a certain outcome. If I get that man, I win, and I’m happy. If I get that job (or that house, or that car), I’ll be happy. We have momentary feelings of pleasure and success when things are going our way. Each time we attain our happiness goal, we raise the bar, because we’re never satisfied. We get desensitized to the norm because there is always more.
When we let go of our desire for a particular result we can find joy in the rhythms of everyday life. For example, happiness says, “I will be happy if this meal or project turns out the way I anticipate.” But joy says, “I’m enjoying every step in this process. If it turns out great, we’ll all enjoy it. If it doesn’t, it won’t be the end of the world.” Joy is not a response to an outcome; it is a fruit of the Holy Spirit within us. Joy comes from being connected to our creator. Learning to trust God for the ending to our stories is a huge first step to finding contentment.
Mark Batterson gets right to the point in his book If: “Joy is not getting what you want; it’s appreciating what you have. And in some cases, it requires wanting less! You’ve got to find fulfillment in the simple pleasures.”7
3. Remember the great things. Let’s proclaim God’s goodness the same way David did: “The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy” (Ps. 126:3). No matter what our circumstances, if we remember what God has done for us, it changes our perspective.
I facilitate a grief-sharing group, and one of the most difficult topics begs an answer for “why did God let this happen to me?” This question drains the energy and life out of the room. I’m acquainted with raw grief, so I let