Double the Joy

I got the blue screen of death on my computer this week.

And my immediate thought?
Yep. That tracks. That’s exactly how I’ve been feeling lately.
Glitchy. Overloaded. Maxed out.

It capped off a day of frustration after frustration. So I gave myself a timeout. Not to sulk or push through rather to reset.

I walked alone to pray, to cry, to confess. Not because God doesn’t already know, but because naming it matters. There’s something holy in letting it out and laying it down.

And while I was pouring my heart out, I kept getting distracted.
“Oh my gosh, look at that lily!”
“I’ve never seen that color before!”
The flowers didn’t care that I was having a hard day.
They just kept blooming.
And I couldn’t help but notice.

Then this morning, during my Pause app prayer, John Eldredge said:
“When a child hears they’re going to the beach tomorrow, they don’t ask, ‘Did you check the weather?’ They just get excited. They get double the joy, the joy of anticipation and the joy of the moment.”

Double the joy.
Because they live in awe. In wonder. In trust.

I realized I had tasted that on my walk. Even with the heaviness. Even in the frustration. A few moments of childlike awe.

I’m not saying we deny the hard.
This season is hard.
Things are shifting. Creation takes grit.

And, what if we lived in anticipation of what this season is preparing us for?

Not dread. Not bypassing.
But trust. Hope.
The belief that double joy is coming.

So here’s your Courage invitation:

Honor the hard.
Name it honestly.
Then lift your eyes.
Notice the beauty interrupting the grief.
Practice the joy of anticipation.

Double joy is coming.