14/12/2025
Third Sunday in Advent
Lighting the Candle of Joy
Isaiah 35:1-10
The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God. Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, “Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. He will come and save you.”
And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.
Reflection:
In the course of doing your job there are situations that take away the joy of serving the community and God.
There are jitters that felt overwhelming. My hands trembled as I prepared for the day’s work, and my mind raced with all the things that could go wrong. The stress pressed on my chest like a weight I could not shake off. Every task felt larger than it was; every responsibility felt heavier than it should. I whispered silent prayers in between breaths, asking God to steady me, to carry me through what I could not carry alone.
But slowly, as the hours unfolded, something shifted. The work did not suddenly become easier, but I began to sense a quiet strength not my own. It was as if God was gently placing a hand on my back, reminding me that I was not alone in this. Little by little, the worries that once felt so controlling began to loosen their grip.
And then—when the task was finally done, when the last word was spoken, the last decision made, the last burden lifted—I felt something bloom inside me. It was not loud or showy, but deep, warm, and freeing. Joy. Not the fleeting happiness that comes from success, but a joy grounded in faith: the joy that comes after walking through fear and discovering that God has been faithful all along.
I realized then that the stress, the jitters, the long moments of doubt—none of them had the final say. God had carried me through. God had opened a way where I thought there was none. And now, standing on the other side, I felt a joy that could not be taken away—a joy born from trust, from perseverance, and from the gentle assurance that whatever challenges come, God will set me free again and again.
It was joy unreserved, joy overflowing, joy that felt like stepping out of the wilderness into a sunlit clearing. A joy that whispered, “You made it. I was with you. And I will be with you still.”
(AI assisted reflection)
