Do we even know her? I’ve been paying attention to the fruit in my life and the lives of those around me. Tending to my garden, I’ve been noticing what is flourishing and what might need more faith, more surrender, or more time. And I noticed something. We rarely, if ever, speak about joy. Serious people eat their main course first and joy… joy can seem like dessert. Sweet and optional. Something reserved for special occasions. Fortunately for us, joy isn't something we earn. It is the fruit we cultivate as we walk with the Holy Spirit. A necessary distinction. Let me be careful here, because saying “choose joy” can curdle into something insulting and delusional. Joy doesn’t require you to pretend grief isn’t real or the injustice isn’t happening. If our joy only survives by looking away, it’s fragile. Also, joy and happiness are different. Joy runs deeper. Happiness depends on circumstances going well and is often a response to our environment. Joy is a Spirit-grown capacity to recognize and participate in the goodness of God, even when our circumstances give us reason to grieve. It is the belief that goodness is real and worth cultivating on this side of heaven. The long tradition of joy under pressure. I’ve also noticed an aversion toward joy and an inclination toward grief. But I think there is something defiant about being a people who, when faced with opposition, still know how to enjoy life. Joy then becomes one of the boldest ways we bear our cross. Some of the most enduring words about joy ever written came from people with every reason not to write them. Paul wrote his letter to the Philippians, with its repeated command to rejoice, while chained in prison. Enslaved communities made songs that carried both sorrow and defiant gladness. Nehemiah told a grieving, rebuilding people that the joy of the Lord was their strength, and by strength he meant in the practical sense of something to stand on. None of these people were naive. They knew how dark it was and their joy declared that darkness would not have the final say. subscribe for more articles like this :) Joy on purpose. If joy is resistance, then it’s something we tend on purpose, not something we wait to feel. From my personal experience, joy is easier to hold in good company. Gather with people you delight in. Throw the party, host the dinner, show up for someone else’s celebration. Let time slip by as you dance in the kitchen. Also, everything doesn’t have to be tidy all the time. Let a beautiful moment be beautiful, without feeling guilty that something else is not. One reason I like to garden is that it’s a small declarations of the future. Something beautiful will grow from this seed. I expect it. Even if not every seed sprouts, there’s joy and hope in believing that some seeds are still good. Joy is evidence. Joy reflects a life surrendered to Christ. It, too, is to be cultivated. Every act of delight is a small reminder that darkness hasn’t won. So why do we reject joy? Are we undervaluing one of the fruits of the Spirit? Or does grief simply feel more real to hold? As a follower of Christ, I don’t believe joy requires me to pretend the world is better than it is. My hope is rooted in God’s character, not the condition of the world. Peter reminds us that there is joy that transcends what we can see and touch—a gladness rooted in our faith in Christ (1 Peter 1:8–9). Joy is how we keep fighting without becoming what we’re fighting against. It is a way of remembering what is still true about God. It becomes a way of participating in the good that remains. Don’t let it harden you. We don’t have to abandon delight to prove that we care about what’s broken. We can make room for grief without making it our home. Our capacity to carry both joy and grief is a beautiful gift. One that I am grateful for. Finding reasons to be grateful retrains our attention and reminds us to participate in this life we've been gifted. Gratitude is an ember that helps joy catch fire. I’m not asking you to pretend or be unaware of the terrors of the night or the arrows of the day as described in Psalm 91 —that would be spiritually irresponsible. We know scripture doesn’t promise a world with no suffering, but if we’re not careful, we can become so preoccupied with the darkness that we forget we were made to bear light. As followers of Jesus, we bear His cross and His light. John speaking of Jesus: “The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” —John 1:5. Jesus encouraging His disciples: “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden” —Matthew 5:14 We are here to push back against decay. And we do that with joy. So, consider this your gentle reminder to go enjoy something today. Goodness is still here. And darkness, for all its noise, does not get to have all of you. Amen? Amen. ♡ I’ll write to you again soon. © 2026 Chérie Grant. All rights reserved. No part of this article may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without prior written permission from the author. ABOUT THE AUTHOR Chérie is a visual and spoken word artist, social scientist, and community builder. Born in Jamaica and now based in Atlanta, she is the author of The Flower Before The Fruit, an interactive poetry book, the creator of Beneath the Flowers, and the founder of Restore, a faith-led supper book club for women. Through her writing and book club, Chérie creates unhurried spaces where people gather to share stories, deepen their faith, and rediscover the beauty of living deeply rooted in Christ. Her work is grounded in the belief that beauty, curiosity, creativity, and honest reflection can become pathways to belonging, wholeness, and a fruitful life with God. When she’s not writing, you’ll find her painting nature-inspired pieces, wandering botanical gardens or lush trails with her journal in hand, blending loose-leaf teas, or discovering a new café in a new city. Learn more about her work at authoredbycher.com This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit beneaththeflowers.substack.com/subscribe
