“Elizabeth filled with the Holy Spirit, loudly exclaimed to Mary: ‘Blessed are you among women and blessed is the child (Jesus) you will bear! But why am I so favored that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby (John the Baptist) in my womb leaped for joy!’” Luke 1:41-44
Lord Jesus, Oh what holy mystery and deep encouragement this story generates. Both John the Baptist and you were still in your mother’s wombs, but your presence fueled John’s joy. This is astonishing but consistent with who you’ve eternally been, because “the fullness of joy abounds” anywhere you are (Ps.16:11).
It’s the same joy you pray we will experience in full measure (John 17:13)—the joy you produce in us by your Spirit (Gal.5:22-23)—a joy that makes room for the sorrows of life in our broken world and intense longings for the Day of all things new. For Jesus, you were simultaneously a man of sorrows (Isa.53:1) and anointed with the oil of joy above everyone else (Heb.1:9).
There’s no contradiction in this—just comfort, along with great freedom and deep hope. Joy inhabits our sorrows and grief; it doesn’t replace them. Our tears become the heart-water of compassion, not angry expressions of self-pity. Indeed, gladness and sadness are Gospel-sisters, not fighting cousins. The Apostle Paul understood this, describing himself and his friends as those who are “sorrowful but always rejoicing” (2Cor.6:10).
So, December 2025 we’re under zero pressure to be “up” all the time; neither are we to consider joy as optional, a matter of temperament, or reserved for your return. Jesus, grant us a December marked by a core of joy as we ponder your two comings, and hearts of compassion for others all around us. So Very Amen.
