Leaving home one morning, Dean found some friends waiting with balloons. His friend Josh stepped forward. “We entered your poems in a competition,” he said, before handing Dean an envelope. Inside was a card that read ‘First Prize,’ and soon everyone was crying tears of joy. Dean’s friends had done a beautiful thing, confirming his writing talent.

Weeping for joy is a paradoxical experience. Tears are normally a response to pain, not joy; and joy is normally expressed with laughter, not tears. Italian psychologists have noted that tears of joy come at times of deep personal meaning—like when we feel deeply loved or achieve a major goal. This led them to conclude that tears of joy are pointers to the meaning of our lives.

I imagine tears of joy erupting everywhere Jesus went. How could the parents of the man born blind not weep for joy when Jesus healed him (John 9:1-9), or Mary and Martha after He raised their brother from death (11:38-43)? When God’s people are brought into a restored world, “Tears of joy will stream down their faces,” God says, “and I will lead them home with great care” (Jeremiah 31:9 nlt).

If tears of joy show us the meaning of our lives, imagine that great day to come. As tears stream down our faces, we’ll know without doubt that the meaning of life has always been to live intimately with Him.

A routine wellness check for little Calvin revealed a few unexpected spots on his body. During the visit, he was given some shots, and the injection spot was covered with a bandage. At home, when the time came to remove the small adhesive covering, Calvin whimpered with four-year-old fear. Seeking to console his son, his father said, “Calvin, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you.” His father wanted his son to trust him more than fearing the removal of the bandage.

Four-year-olds aren’t the only ones who grow faint in the face of discomfort. Surgeries, separation from loved ones, mental or psychological challenges—and more—prompt our fears, sighs, cries, and groans.

One of David’s fear-filled moments was when he found himself in Philistine territory while fleeing a jealous King Saul. When he was recognized, he was anxious about what might happen to him (see 1 Samuel 21:10-11): “David . . . was very much afraid of Achish king of Gath” (v. 12). Reflecting on this uncomfortable situation, David wrote, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. . . . In God I trust and am not afraid” (Psalm 56:3-4).

What shall we do when life’s discomforts stir up our fears? We can gaze into the face of our heavenly Father, who’s always there to help us.

“Prayers for an upcoming brain scan.” “That my kids would come back to church.” “Comfort for Dave, who lost his wife.” Our card ministry team receives a weekly list of prayer requests like these so we can pray and send each person a handwritten note. The requests are overwhelming, and our efforts can feel small and unnoticed. That changed after I received a heartfelt thank-you card from the recently bereaved husband, with a copy of his beloved wife’s obituary. I realized anew that prayer matters.

Jesus modeled that we should pray earnestly, often, and with hopeful faith. His time on earth was limited, but He prioritized getting away by Himself to pray (Mark 1:35; 6:46; 14:32).

Hundreds of year earlier, the Israelite king Hezekiah learned this lesson too. He was told that an illness would soon take his life (2 Kings 20:1). In distress and weeping bitterly, Hezekiah “turned his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord” (vv. 2-3). In this instance, God’s response was immediate. He healed Hezekiah’s sickness, added fifteen years to his life, and promised to rescue the kingdom from an adversary (vv. 5-6). God answered his prayer not because Hezekiah was living a good life, but “for [His] own honor and the sake of [His] servant David” (v. 6 nlt). We may not always receive what we ask for, but we can be sure that God is working in and through every prayer.

The “monster” in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is one of the most widely known literary characters, captivating our cultural imagination. But close readers of the beloved novel know that a strong case can be made that Shelley actually portrays Victor Frankenstein, the delusional scientist who created the creature, as the real monster. After creating an intelligent creature, Victor denies him any guidance, companionship, or hope of happiness—seemingly guaranteeing the creature’s descent into desperation and rage. Confronting Victor, the creature laments, “You, my creator, would tear me to pieces and triumph.”

Scripture reveals how different the true Creator of all things is—with unchanging, tireless love for His creation. God didn’t create on a whim, but out of love created a beautiful, good world (Genesis 1:31). And even when humanity turned from Him to choose monstrous evil instead, God’s commitment to and love for humanity didn’t change.

As Jesus explained to Nicodemus, God’s love for His creation was so great He was willing to give even what was most dear to Him—“his one and only Son” (John 3:16)—that the world might be saved. Jesus sacrificed Himself, bearing the consequences of our sin, so “that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him” (v. 15).

We have a Creator we can trust with our hearts and lives.

Lando, a jeepney (a form of public transport in the Philippines) driver in Manila, gulped down coffee at a roadside stall. Daily commuters were back again after the Covid-19 lockdowns. And the sports event today means more passengers, Lando thought. I’ll get back lost income. Finally, I can stop worrying.

He was about to start driving when he spotted Ronnie on a bench nearby. The street sweeper looked troubled, like he needed to talk. But every minute counts, Lando thought. The more passengers, the more income. I can’t linger. But he sensed that God wanted him to approach Ronnie, so he did.

Jesus understood how difficult it is to not worry when we’re unsure of how our needs will be met (Matthew 6:25-27). So He assures us that our heavenly Father knows exactly what we need (v. 32). We’re reminded not to be anxious, but to trust Him and devote ourselves to doing what He wants us to do (vv. 31-33). As we embrace and obey His purposes, we can have confidence that our Father “who clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire” will provide for us according to His will—just as He provides for all creation (v. 30).

Because of Lando’s conversation with Ronnie, the street sweeper eventually prayed to become a believer in Christ. “And God still provided enough passengers that day,” Lando shared. “He reminded me my needs were His concern; mine was simply to follow Him.”

Seth took all the medications he could find in the medicine cabinet. Raised in a family filled with brokenness and disorder, his life was a mess. His mom was regularly abused by his father until his dad took his own life. Now Seth wanted to “just end” his own. But then a thought came to mind, Where do I go when I die? By God’s grace, Seth didn’t die that day. And in time, after studying the Bible with a friend, he received Jesus as his Savior. Part of what drew Seth to God was seeing the beauty and order in creation. He said, “I . . . see things that are just beautiful. Someone made all this.”

In Genesis 1, we read of the God who indeed created all things. And although “the earth was complete chaos” (v. 2 nrsv), He brought order out of disorder. He “separated the light from darkness” (v. 4), placed land amid the seas (v. 10), and made plants and creatures “according to their kinds” (vv. 11, 21). The One who “created the heavens and earth and put everything in place” (Isaiah 45:18) continues to, as Seth discovered, bring peace and order to lives surrendered to Christ.

Life can be chaotic and challenging. Praise God that He’s not “a God of disorder but of peace” (1 Corinthians 14:33). Let’s call out to Him today and ask Him to help us find the beauty and order He alone provides.

Nora went to the peaceful protest because she felt strongly about the issue of justice. As planned, the demonstration was silent. The protestors walked in powerful quietness through the downtown area.

Then two buses pulled up. Agitators had arrived from out of town. A riot soon broke out. Heartbroken, Nora left. It seemed their good intentions were fruitless.

When the apostle Paul visited the temple at Jerusalem, people who opposed Paul saw him there. They were “from the province of Asia” (Acts 21:27) and viewed Jesus as a threat to their way of life. Shouting lies and rumors about Paul, they quickly stirred up trouble (vv. 28-29). A mob dragged Paul from the temple and beat him. Soldiers came running.

As he was being arrested, Paul asked the Roman commander if he could address the crowd (vv. 37-38). When permission was granted, he spoke to the crowd in their own language, surprising them and seizing their attention (v. 40). And just like that, Paul had turned a riot into an opportunity to share his story of rescue from dead religion (Acts 22:2-21).

Some people love violence and division. Don’t lose heart. They will not win. God is looking for courageous believers to share His light and peace with our desperate world. What seems like a crisis might be your opportunity to show someone God’s love.

I’ve often affectionately joked with my mother-in-law about her ability to talk to her dogs. She responds to their barks with loving understanding. Perhaps now she and dog owners everywhere will also listen for their canine pals to laugh. Scientists have discovered that many animals, including dogs, cows, foxes, seals, and parakeets all have “vocal play signals”—otherwise known as laughter. Identifying these accompanying sounds helps distinguish an animal’s play behaviors from what might otherwise look like fighting to a human observer.

That animals express laughter and joy gives us a delightful glimmer of what it might look like for other parts of creation to praise God in their own way. As King David looked over his surroundings, it seemed to him “the hills [were] clothed with gladness” and the meadows and valleys were “[shouting] for joy” (Psalm 65:12-13). David recognized that God had cared for and enriched the land, providing both beauty and sustenance.

Even though our physical surroundings don’t “sing” in a literal way, they bear witness to God’s active work in His creation and, in turn, invite us to give praise to Him with our voices. May we—as part of the “whole earth”—be “filled with awe at [His] wonders” and respond to Him with “songs of joy” (v. 8). We can trust that He’ll hear and understand them.

Genevieve had to be the “eyes” for her three children, each born with congenital cataracts. Whenever she took them into their village in the Republic of Benin, she strapped the baby onto her back and held onto the arm and hand of her older two, always looking for danger. In a culture where blindness was thought to be caused by witchcraft, Genevieve despaired and cried out to God for help.

Then a man from her village told her about Mercy Ships, a ministry that provides vital surgeries to honor Jesus’s model of bringing hope and healing to the poor. Although Genevieve was uncertain if they could help, she approached them. When the children woke up after their surgeries, she waited with bated breath. They could see!

God’s story has always been about coming alongside those shrouded in darkness and bringing His light. The prophet Isaiah declared that God would be “a light for the Gentiles” (Isaiah 42:6). He would “open eyes that are blind” (v. 7), restoring not only physical sight but spiritual vision as well. And He promised to “take hold” of His people’s hand (v. 6), which is just what Jesus did. He restored sight to the blind and, more importantly, brought light to those living in the darkness.

If you feel overcome by darkness, cling to hope as you embrace the promises of our loving Father while asking for His light to bring illumination.

I was so excited to put on my new glasses for the first time, but after just a few hours I wanted to throw them away. My eyes ached and head throbbed from adjusting to the new prescription. My ears were sore from the unfamiliar frames. The next day I groaned when I remembered I had to wear them. I had to repeatedly choose to use my glasses each day in order for my body to adjust. It took several weeks, but after that, I hardly noticed I was wearing them.

Putting on something new requires an adjustment, but over time we grow into it, and it suits us better. We may even see things we didn’t see before. In Romans 13, the apostle Paul instructed Christ followers to “put on the armor of light” (v. 12) and practice right living. They had already believed in Jesus, but it seems they had fallen into “slumber” and become more complacent (v. 11). They needed to “wake up” and take action, behave decently and let go of all sin. Paul encouraged them to be clothed with Jesus and become more like Him in their thoughts and deeds (v. 14).

We don’t begin to reflect the loving, gentle, kind, grace-filled, and faithful ways of Jesus overnight. It’s a long process of choosing to “put on the armor of light” every day, even when we don’t want to because it’s uncomfortable. Over time, He changes us for the better.