It was Tuesday night, and I made a promise to myself. I set my alarm for 5:30 in the morning so I could meet with God in prayer. For those who know me, waking up that early is a challenge. I am not a morning person at all. My prayer time usually happens around midday or in the evening. But for some reason, I felt led to try something different.
Wednesday morning arrived, and the blaring alarm on my phone reminded me of my promise. My body protested. My bed felt warm. Everything in me wanted to stay comfortable. But my spirit wanted God.
Five minutes later, I was in my closet, crying before the Lord, releasing every burden I had been carrying. I stayed there nearly an hour. My body was tired, but my spirit felt strengthened, refreshed, and steady. I walked out of that closet with the quiet confidence that my day was going to be amazing.
And it was. At first.
I worked out. Took my son to daycare. Left the house on time. Everything was flowing so smoothly it felt unreal. I even grabbed breakfast, and they got my order absolutely perfect. Hot. Fresh. Just the way I like it. I was smiling, feeling light and joyful.
Nothing was going to take my joy. I meant nothing.
Then it happened.
I was driving down the freeway, worship music playing, heart full, mind calm. Out of nowhere, I saw a police officer standing in the middle of the street. On foot. By himself. Hand lifted. Signaling me to pull over.
My heart dropped to my shoes. And my joy dropped right with it.
I had never seen anything like that in my life. A police officer handing out tickets in the middle of a busy highway, on foot. I sat in my car in disbelief. While trying to reason through what was happening, I had a little conversation with God.
Lord, I got up early to pray. Why is this happening
Before I could finish that thought, I heard a voice at my window.
Ma’am, do you know why I stopped you
I looked at him, confused.
I am sorry, I do not.
Ma’am, you were speeding. Ten miles over.
And just like that, he handed me the white paper that every Christian driver dreads. I stared at it thinking, Well, there goes my joy.
I folded the ticket, slid it into my purse, and drove the rest of the way to the salon in silence. My singing was gone. My excitement evaporated. The perfect morning had taken a sharp left turn.
Here is where God met me again.
As Christians, we sometimes assume that walking with God exempts us from bad days. We think prayer guarantees smooth sailing. But scripture shows us the opposite. As soon as God declared His pleasure in Jesus at His baptism, the Spirit led Him into the wilderness to be tested.
There goes His joy
Or was it?
Jesus understood something we all have to learn. Real joy is not tied to circumstances. It is tied to God. Joy is a choice we must make, sometimes multiple times a day. Life will always hand us lemons. But we choose where we set our emotions.
I took a moment before work to acknowledge God again. And I remembered who I had met with that morning. The same God who woke me up, strengthened me, refreshed me, and met me in prayer did not change because a police officer changed my mood.
The power of that prayer time is what helped me bounce back quickly. Discouragement tried to settle in, but the presence of God was stronger. I chose joy again. And again. And again.
That moment taught me something.
Sometimes it is not the big storms that test us.
Sometimes it is the small inconveniences that try to rob us of our peace.
But joy is still a choice. It is the posture we return to because we know all things are working together for our good.
Have you ever had a ‘there goes my joy’ moment? Did it knock the wind out of you, or did you find your way back to joy?
Drop me a line. I would love to hear your story.
