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34 Illustrations on Joy

  • Writer: Darrell Stetler II
    Darrell Stetler II
  • Jul 19
  • 26 min read

Updated: 1 day ago

Let’s be honest—preaching on joy can feel risky.


Not because it’s controversial, but because it’s hard to make real. It’s one thing to say, “In God’s presence there is fullness of joy.” It’s another thing entirely to show what that looks like in real life—on Monday morning, in hospital rooms, or in a prison cell. And that’s where sermon illustrations matter most. They give flesh to the text. They help people see the truth before they believe it.


But if you’ve ever searched for great illustrations on joy, you know the struggle. The same stories come up. The same clichés. It’s tough to find fresh, powerful examples that actually connect with your congregation—and that stay faithful to Scripture.


I’ve been preaching for over 20 years, and I’ve felt that frustration myself. That’s why I’ve spent the last several years building tools to help pastors like you—tools like my course, How Pastors Can Use AI for Sermon Prep—Without Selling Out or Cheating. It shows you how to harness the power of AI to generate deep, theologically sound illustrations in just seconds—including the ones you’re about to read.


Because your people don’t just need joy explained. They need it pictured. And these illustrations will help you do just that.


If you want a free AI research assistant to help you locate illustrations on ANY topic, check out this course:


Here's a video walkthrough of me showing you exactly how I used it to generate sermon illustrations on joy:


Illustrations on Joy from Historical Stories

The Story of Brother Lawrence

Let me introduce you to someone you might not know—Brother Lawrence. He wasn’t a preacher or theologian. In fact, he wasn’t particularly educated. He worked in a monastery, but not as a priest. He was the cook.

Just picture this: A 17th-century Carmelite kitchen in France. Wooden tables. Cracked stone floors. Pots bubbling over open fire. The clatter of dishes. The heat. The noise. The endless grind of preparation. And in the middle of all that—joy.

Brother Lawrence found something many Christians never discover: he learned how to live in constant awareness of God’s presence. He called it “practicing the presence of God.” He didn’t just pray in the chapel—he prayed while peeling potatoes. He didn’t worship only during services—he worshipped as he scrubbed pans. And here’s the key: he said there was no difference to him between the time he spent on his knees in quiet devotion… and the time he spent elbow-deep in soapy water. Why? Because God was there in both places.

One of his most famous lines is this: “The time of business does not with me differ from the time of prayer… I possess God as tranquilly in the noise and clatter of my kitchen as if I were upon my knees before the Blessed Sacrament.” That is the joy of God’s presence. It’s not something that flickers on and off depending on your location or schedule. It’s not reserved for Sundays or silence or retreats. The presence of God is portable.

Brother Lawrence’s story reminds us: Joy doesn’t wait for a peaceful moment—it walks with you through every moment. Whether you’re scrubbing floors or solving problems, commuting or caregiving, if you learn to practice the presence of God, you can carry His joy with you wherever you go.


Susanna Wesley

Let me tell you about a woman named Susanna Wesley. You may not recognize her name right away, but I guarantee you’ve felt the ripple effects of her life. She was the mother of John and Charles Wesley—two of the most influential leaders in church history. But long before their sermons stirred thousands or their hymns filled churches, their mother was preaching her own kind of sermon… from the kitchen.

Susanna Wesley had nineteen children. Just imagine that for a moment. And in the chaos of 18th-century life—no dishwashers, no air conditioning, no grocery pickups—she still made time for something that mattered more than anything else. Prayer. Time in God’s presence. But how do you pray when the house is loud, the children are everywhere, and there's no place to be alone?

Susanna had a solution. She would sit down in her kitchen, throw her apron over her head… and pray. That apron became a holy place. It was her tent of meeting. Everyone in the house knew: when Mama’s got her apron over her head, you don’t bother her. She’s talking to Jesus. She did this every day—often spending up to two hours in prayer and Scripture. Not in a cathedral. Not on a retreat. In the middle of clatter and crying and chores.

And it was there, in that sacred little fabric-covered sanctuary, that she found joy. Deep, sustaining joy in God’s presence. I love that picture. Because it reminds us: the presence of God isn’t confined to a church building or a mountaintop moment. It’s not something you have to schedule a week away for. You can encounter Him in the middle of your daily grind. Even when life is noisy and messy, you can draw near.

Sometimes joy doesn’t come from escaping the chaos—it comes from inviting God into it.

Illustrations on Joy from Susanna Wesley

If you want to know how I made this copy-right free image for my sermon powerpoint on joy, you can get my free AI tool for pastors here:


Illustrations on Joy from Science

Joy and Neuroscience

Over the past few decades, neuroscientists have started doing something fascinating: they’ve been putting people inside MRI machines—not just to study illness, but to observe what happens in the brain during prayer.

And you know what they’ve found? When believers engage in deep, personal prayer—especially when they’re not just talking to God but sensing His presence—the parts of the brain associated with joy, peace, and connection light up. Dopamine pathways get active. The frontal lobe—the part involved in focus and decision-making—gets sharper. And areas associated with stress? They go quiet.

There’s even a researcher named Dr. Andrew Newberg who’s spent years studying this. He found that people who regularly pray or meditate on God’s presence not only have more peace—they often describe feeling what can only be called joy. Not a shallow happiness, but a deep well-being that science can observe… but not explain away. Now here’s what’s beautiful: these effects aren’t tied to any prayer—they’re strongest when people are praying relationally. When they feel they’re in the presence of a loving God. When they’re not just reciting lines but drawing near.

That matches what Scripture has always said: “In your presence, there is fullness of joy.” Science may not be able to measure the Holy Spirit—but it’s discovering what Christians have known for centuries: when we draw near to God, something happens in our soul and our body. God made us this way. He designed us for joy—and joy flourishes in His presence.


Runner's High

Have you ever heard of a “runner’s high”? It’s that euphoric feeling athletes get after pushing themselves through long periods of physical exertion. Scientists tell us it’s caused by a rush of endorphins and dopamine—natural chemicals in the brain that produce a sense of joy, even ecstasy.

But here’s something interesting: believers often describe a similar feeling during deep worship. Maybe you’ve felt it too—that sense of peace washing over you, your heart lifted, your burdens lightened. A feeling of joy that’s not rooted in your circumstances but in something—or Someone—you’ve touched that’s beyond yourself.

Now scientifically, those same chemicals—dopamine, endorphins—are at work. But something else is happening too. Because unlike a runner’s high, the joy in worship doesn’t come from effort—it comes from surrender. It’s not about pushing your body to the limit… it’s about opening your heart to the presence of God.

People walk into a sanctuary with heavy hearts and walk out with joy. Not because their problems disappeared—but because they encountered a Person who brought peace. They felt seen, held, loved.

Worship can take you higher than a marathon ever could. It’s joy, not from adrenaline, but from abiding.

The Bible says, “Those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength.” And often, that strength comes wrapped in joy. In God’s presence, the brain may light up—but the soul shines even brighter.


Examples from Social Science and Psychology

Flow State

Psychologists have a term called “flow state.” You’ve probably experienced it without even knowing the name. It’s that moment when you're completely absorbed in what you're doing. Time disappears. Distractions fade. You're just in it. Artists feel it while painting. Athletes sense it in the zone. Musicians lose themselves in the song.

It’s often described as one of the most enjoyable states a human being can experience.

But here’s something interesting: believers often describe something even deeper when they’re in God’s presence. A kind of flow of the soul. It’s not about performance. It’s not about excellence. It’s about intimacy. In moments of worship, in quiet prayer, in surrendered stillness—believers report feeling a kind of joy that surpasses even the most intense “flow” experiences. It’s like stepping into alignment—not just with your task, but with your purpose. With your Creator.

The flow state makes you feel alive. But the presence of God makes you feel known. Secure. Free. Both are powerful. But only one can change your identity. Only one says, “You are mine.” Only one brings a joy that can walk with you through grief, loneliness, or failure—because it's not rooted in what you're doing… it's rooted in who you're with.

That’s the difference. The world chases flow. The believer abides in presence—and there, they find joy that doesn't fade when the music stops or the moment ends.


Illustrations on Mirror Neurons

There’s something fascinating in neuroscience called mirror neurons. These are parts of your brain that fire not just when you do something, but when you see someone else do it. It’s why you wince when you see someone stub their toe. It’s why you get emotional watching a movie, even though none of it is happening to you. Your brain mirrors what it sees. In a sense, we are wired for connection—we literally feel others' experiences in our own bodies.

Now here’s where it gets interesting: studies show that when you're around someone calm, your brain starts to calm too. When you're around someone joyful, those same joyful patterns begin to echo in your mind.

So let’s take that to a spiritual level: what happens when you spend time in the presence of the most joyful Being in the universe? You begin to reflect Him.

If we are wired to emotionally respond to the people we’re with… then it makes perfect sense that spending time in the presence of God would awaken joy in us. Not forced happiness. Not artificial cheer. But real, resonant, soul-deep joy that mirrors the heart of our Father.

That’s what makes worship powerful. That’s what happens in stillness before God. You’re not just reading words or singing notes—you’re with Him. And the joy of being with Him begins to change you from the inside out.


Illustrations on Joy from Art and Music

Matt Redman's Better is One Day

Back in the 1990s, a young British worship leader named Matt Redman was on a journey—not just of writing songs, but of learning to linger in God’s presence.

He wasn’t chasing a record deal. He wasn’t trying to be famous. What he longed for—what his heart burned for—was the presence of God. And during a season of personal reflection and worship, he found himself drawn to one particular Scripture: “Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.”

That verse from Psalm 84 gripped him. It wasn’t just poetry—it was truth. Redman began to write, and out of that hunger came a song many of us know today:

“Better is one day in Your courts, better is one day in Your house, better is one day in Your courts than thousands elsewhere…”

Simple. Honest. Pure. The song became a declaration—not just of faith, but of joy.

For Matt, the presence of God wasn’t just a theological idea—it was a place of refuge, refreshment, and deep, soul-level joy. And that song became a doorway for thousands, maybe millions, to step into that same space—to experience the joy of being near the Lord.

It’s a reminder: Joy doesn’t always come in shouts and noise. Sometimes it comes in surrender. In singing quietly to a God who’s close. In believing that one moment with Him is better than a thousand spent chasing anything else.


Illustrations on Joy from Movies

The Secret Garden

There’s a beautiful moment in the film The Secret Garden—a story about an orphaned girl named Mary Lennox, who discovers a locked, hidden garden on the estate where she’s been sent to live. It’s overgrown. Forgotten. Untouched.

But as Mary begins to care for it—clearing the weeds, tending the soil—something begins to change. Not just in the garden… but in her. The place that was once dead and silent begins to bloom. And as it comes alive, so does she.

The secret garden becomes more than a patch of land. It becomes a sanctuary. A space where healing happens. Where burdens are lifted. Where joy grows quietly, steadily, in the soil of presence.

Now, the story never names God. But the metaphor is undeniable. For us, the presence of God is a kind of “secret garden.” Not because it’s hard to find, but because it’s easy to neglect. But when we enter it—when we make space for it, care for it, return to it again and again—something begins to grow in us that we could never cultivate on our own.

And like Mary, we discover that joy isn’t always loud or immediate. Sometimes, joy grows in the stillness. In the waiting. In the slow, sacred rhythm of being with the One who brings life to dead things. That’s the joy of God’s presence. It restores the neglected parts of our soul. It brings us back to life.

Illustrations on Joy from The Secret Garden

Inside Out

In Pixar’s Inside Out, we meet Joy—a bright, bubbly character living inside the mind of an 11-year-old girl named Riley. Joy’s job? To keep Riley happy. But as the movie unfolds, Joy begins to realize something important: her constant attempts to protect Riley from sadness are actually hurting her. The more she pushes sadness away, the more disconnected and fragile Riley becomes.

And here’s the turning point: Joy discovers that real joy isn’t about pretending everything is okay. It’s not about forcing happiness. It’s about being present. Fully present. Even when things are hard. In one of the most moving scenes, Joy sees a memory where Riley is sitting in her backyard, crying after a sports loss… and then her parents come, sit beside her, and comfort her. And that moment—presence in pain—turns into one of Riley’s happiest memories.

That’s a profound truth—not just for childhood, but for all of us. Sometimes we think joy in God’s presence means constant celebration. But often, the deepest joy comes from simply knowing He’s with us—even in the sadness. Even when we’re broken. Especially then. Psalm 34 says, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted…” And in that nearness, even sorrow can begin to glimmer with joy.

The movie teaches what Scripture has always said: joy isn’t the absence of sorrow. It’s the presence of someone who stays.


Illustrations on Joy from Books and Literature

C.S. Lewis's Surprised by Joy

C.S. Lewis didn’t come to faith quickly or easily. He was an academic, a skeptic, and for much of his early life, an atheist. But something kept pursuing him—not a person, not an argument… but a feeling.

He described it as “an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.” It would hit him at unexpected times—a piece of music, a scene in a book, a glimpse of nature—and it would awaken this deep, aching sense of longing. He called it “joy,” but not in the way we usually define it. This wasn’t pleasure or amusement. It was something deeper. Something spiritual.

And in his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, Lewis recounts how this persistent longing—this joy—eventually led him to God. It didn’t start with doctrine or church. It started with presence. With moments when his soul stirred, and he knew there had to be more. Lewis would later write that joy was never the destination. It was the signpost—pointing him to the One who made his soul. That’s what God’s presence often does. It surprises us. It sneaks up in the middle of a song, a sunset, a quiet moment—and suddenly we feel it: this isn't just beauty… it’s holy. This isn’t just longing… it’s invitation.

Lewis teaches us that real joy doesn’t come from what we chase—it comes from the One who’s been chasing us.


Examples about Joy from Anne of Green Gables

Anne Shirley, the red-haired orphan at the center of Anne of Green Gables, isn’t what anyone would call ordinary. She’s dramatic, curious, and wildly imaginative. But one of the most beautiful things about her character is her ability to be utterly delighted—by the world, by friendship, by the smallest wonders of life.

She doesn’t just walk through a wooded path—she christens it the White Way of Delight. She doesn’t merely see a pond—she calls it the Lake of Shining Waters. Everything ordinary becomes sacred through her eyes.

Now, Anne doesn’t speak about God much, especially in the early parts of the story. But there’s something deeply spiritual about her joy. It’s the joy that comes from being fully present—from slowing down, paying attention, and letting beauty speak. That’s what God’s presence does, too.

When we become aware of Him—not just on Sundays, but in sunrises and conversations, in laughter and stillness—we begin to see the world like Anne sees Avonlea. We begin to feel the kind of joy that’s rooted not in what we have, but in who’s with us.

Jesus said we must become like little children. And maybe part of what He meant is this: children know how to wonder. How to be present. How to delight. And when we do the same, we find what Anne found—unexpected joy in even the most ordinary places.


Illustrations on Joy from Metaphors

  • God’s presence is like a sunroom: Step into it, and even in winter, warmth and light flood your soul.

  • God’s presence is like WiFi: Invisible, but when you're connected, everything starts to work and joy flows.

  • God’s presence is a firepit: The closer you get, the more the chill disappears and joy takes its place.

  • God’s presence is like a favorite song: The melody lifts your spirit even when the lyrics are unspoken.


Examples from Poetry

Gerard Manley Hopkins' Writings

The 19th-century poet Gerard Manley Hopkins once wrote, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God.” What a phrase. Not sprinkled with it. Not occasionally touched by it. Charged. As if every tree, every breeze, every blade of grass is humming with the presence of God.

Hopkins had a way of seeing that many of us have lost. He looked at the world with eyes wide open—expecting to find evidence of God's nearness in the natural world. And he did. Not because he was naïve, but because he was awake. In one of his most famous poems, he writes about how the earth is bruised and broken by human sin, and yet—despite all that—life keeps springing up. Beauty keeps breaking through. Joy keeps rising. Why? Because, he says, “the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.”

It’s a picture of divine presence—not distant, but tender. Hovering. Like a mother bird over her young. Hopkins helps us see what Scripture tells us: God is near. Near in beauty. Near in brokenness. Near in the mystery of light through leaves and morning air. And in that nearness, there is joy—not loud, not forced, but glowing. Sometimes, it takes a poet to remind us: the world is lit up with the presence of God… if only we have the eyes to see.

Illustrations on Joy from Gerard Manley Hopkins' writings

The Poetry of Mary Oliver

The late poet Mary Oliver once wrote, “Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed.” She was a master at finding the sacred in the ordinary. A hawk overhead. A shell on the beach. A single line of birds crossing the sky. She didn’t use the language of church very often, but her poems thrum with reverence—a sense that something holy is always near.

In one of her most well-loved poems, she ends with a stunning invitation:“Joy is not made to be a crumb.” That’s what God’s presence is like. Not a crumb to be snatched at. Not a fleeting moment we hope to earn. It’s a feast. A fullness. It’s joy poured out generously—right where we are.

Mary Oliver teaches us what the Psalms have always said: the earth is full of His glory. Joy doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. It waits for attention. And sometimes, all we need to do is pause long enough to realize: God is here. His joy is present. And it’s not a crumb. It’s the whole meal.


Quotes about Joy

David Steindl-Rast's Quote about Joy

“The root of joy is gratefulness... It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.”

At first, that might seem backwards. Most of us think joy comes first—something good happens, we feel happy, and we say thanks. But Brother David discovered something deeper: joy isn’t the result of circumstance—it’s the result of awareness.

When we become aware of God’s nearness, of His goodness in the small and the sacred, gratitude begins to rise. And from that gratitude… comes joy. Even when things are hard. Even when nothing on the outside has changed. He taught that the doorway into God’s presence is not always thunder and lightning—it’s often just thank you. A whispered recognition that God is here. That I am not alone. That grace is real.

And once we say thank you—joy walks in. It reminds us of what the Psalmist wrote: “Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise.” Gratitude is how we step into His presence. And in that presence… joy overflows.



Joy and Satisfaction

John Piper once said something that completely reframed how I understood worship. He said, “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.” At first glance, it might sound like clever theology—but it’s so much more. It’s a key to joy. To worship. To life.

You see, many people think glorifying God means being miserable for Him. Like joy and holiness are opposites. But Piper flips that idea on its head. He’s saying: when you are truly satisfied in God—when you find your deepest joy in just being with Himthat’s when He’s most glorified.

Because it shows the world: “God is not just useful—He’s beautiful. He’s not just powerful—He’s desirable. He’s not just a giver—He is the gift.” Think about it: when do you feel most honored? Isn’t it when someone delights in being with you? When your presence brings them joy—not just your help or your advice, but you?

It’s the same with God. That’s what Psalm 16:11 is telling us: “In your presence there is fullness of joy.” And when we live out that truth—when we walk in the world as people who find their satisfaction in Him—we don’t just experience joy… we reflect glory.


Illustrations on Joy from Greco-Roman Culture

Imagine walking into a temple in ancient Rome. The gods are carved in stone—Mars, Jupiter, Diana—powerful, aloof, untouchable. Worship isn’t joyful… it’s transactional. You bring a sacrifice, say the right words, and hope the gods won’t punish you—or maybe, if you’re lucky, they’ll grant your request.

But one thing is certain: you don’t get close. There’s no intimacy. No joy. Just fear and formality. In the Roman world, the divine was dangerous, and religion was about keeping your distance.

Now contrast that with the God of Scripture. He doesn’t stay behind marble walls. He doesn’t demand you earn your way in. He comes to you. Walks with you. Invites you into His presence—not with dread, but with delight.

Psalm 16:11 says, “In your presence there is fullness of joy.” Not fear. Not bargaining. Not distance. Joy. That was revolutionary in the first century. It still is.

The gods of Rome were distant and demanding. But the God of Israel—the Father of Jesus—draws near. And in His nearness, we find what no temple idol could ever give: joy that’s full, real, and freely offered.


Illustrations from The Early Church

In the early centuries of the church, long before Christianity was legalized, following Jesus was dangerous. To be baptized wasn’t just a spiritual step—it was a death sentence in waiting. And yet… history tells us something astonishing: many of those early believers went to their deaths singing. Eyewitnesses recorded stories of Christians led into Roman arenas to be executed, and instead of cursing their fate, they sang hymns. Not dirges. Not laments. Songs of joy.

One of the most well-documented examples is Perpetua and Felicitas, two young women imprisoned in North Africa around A.D. 203. On the day of their execution, as they were marched into the arena, witnesses said they walked with dignity—and sang. How is that possible? They had something the Roman world couldn’t explain. Their joy didn’t come from comfort or safety or status. It came from presence. The presence of the living Christ, who had walked with them in prison, and now would carry them home. That’s the kind of joy Psalm 16:11 talks about: “In your presence there is fullness of joy.” Not circumstantial. Not fragile. Unshakable joy, rooted in being with Him—even when walking toward death.

And here’s what shook the Roman world the most: people didn’t just see martyrs die… they saw them die singing. And many came to faith because of it. Joy in God’s presence is not just a feeling. It’s a testimony. And sometimes… it’s a song in the fire.


Early Christians and the Didache

Imagine being a Christian in the first century. You don’t have a church building. There’s no sound system. No lights. No programs. In fact, gathering with other believers could cost you your life. And yet—they met. Week after week, often in homes, in caves, or under cover of darkness. Why? Because there was joy in being together. Joy in worship. Joy in His presence.

One ancient document from that era, the Didache, gives us a glimpse into their gatherings. It mentions prayers, breaking of bread, singing psalms—ordinary acts, but filled with sacred meaning. These early believers weren’t just checking a religious box. They were entering into the presence of Christ together.

And you know what’s beautiful? Despite persecution, poverty, and pressure… joy marked their gatherings. Not because their lives were easy. But because when they came together, they felt God there. And in that presence, there was peace. Hope. Laughter. Joy. Church for them wasn’t about entertainment or convenience—it was about encounter. They believed what Jesus had promised: “Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.”

Even Roman officials took notice. One early critic wrote with confusion, “See how they love one another.” What he couldn’t explain was that love and joy are the natural fruit of God’s presence. It’s a reminder for us today: we don’t need perfect conditions to worship. We just need a gathering and a God who promises to show up. And when He does—joy comes with Him.

Illustrations on Joy from Biblical Parallels

Exodus 34: Moses Seeing the Lord Face to Face

Moses has just spent forty days on Mount Sinai with God—no food, no water, just the presence of the Almighty. When he comes down the mountain, the people look at him… and they can’t even handle it.

Why? Because his face is glowing. Literally shining. Radiant. So much so that he has to put a veil over his face, because the people are afraid to come near him. Now think about that: Moses doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even have to preach. Just being in the presence of God left a visible mark on him.

And what’s amazing is—this wasn’t a miracle Moses asked for. He didn’t say, “Lord, make me glow.” It just happened. Because when you spend time in the presence of pure holiness, it changes you. You carry it with you. That’s what joy in God’s presence does. You might not walk around glowing like a light bulb—but when you've been with Him, people can tell. There’s peace in your tone. There’s lightness in your spirit. There’s joy in your eyes.

It’s not manufactured. It’s reflected. Just like Moses. And here’s the best part: because of Jesus, we don’t have to climb a mountain to meet with God. His Spirit is in us. His presence is available. And when we truly spend time with Him… we shine too.


Jesus, Mary and Martha

It was a simple house in Bethany. Jesus had come to visit, and the moment He entered, the space filled with tension—not from Him, but from the contrast of responses around Him. Martha, the host, was bustling in the kitchen. Plates, pots, preparations—her hands were full, and so was her mind.

But her sister Mary? She did something unthinkable in that culture. She sat down.

Not in the kitchen. Not to help. But at Jesus’ feet—the place of a disciple, the place of a learner, the place of presence.

Martha was frustrated. She came out, clanging and sighing, and said to Jesus, “Don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself?” And Jesus responded gently but clearly:“Martha, Martha… you are anxious and troubled about many things. But only one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her.”

What had Mary chosen? Presence. She chose to stop striving, to stop rushing, to quiet herself and simply be with Jesus. And in that space… she found joy. The house was still full of noise. The tasks hadn’t disappeared. But Mary had discovered something Martha hadn’t yet: the joy of sitting at His feet is worth more than the approval of the world or the appearance of productivity.

Jesus didn’t rebuke Martha for working. But He affirmed Mary for choosing the better thing—the thing that leads to real joy: simply being with Him.


Illustrations on Joy from Jesus, Mary and Martha

Illustrations on Joy from Recent Events

Visions in the Middle East

In recent years, across parts of the Middle East where Christianity is often outlawed or violently opposed, something surprising has been happening. People—many from Muslim backgrounds—have reported dreams and visions of Jesus. In places where the Bible is banned and churches are burned, these believers often come to faith through nothing more than a dream… and an overwhelming sense of presence.

One man shared his story in hushed tones: he had never read a Bible, never met a Christian, but in his dream, a man in white appeared to him and said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” When he woke, he felt peace he’d never known. Joy broke over him like morning sun. But here’s what’s even more stunning: these believers, even while facing pressure, prison, or exile, often describe themselves not as afraid—but full of joy.

Why? Because they’ve encountered Jesus. Not as an idea. Not as a philosophy. But as a presence. A living, real, joy-bringing Savior who met them in a place no missionary could reach. One underground church leader said, “We have nothing… but we have Him. And when we worship, we forget we are hunted. We only know we are loved.” That’s the joy of God’s presence. Not circumstantial. Not logical. But transforming. Even when life is stripped bare, His presence is enough to sing about.


Illustrations about Joy from Other Cultures

In ancient Celtic Christianity, there’s a beautiful idea called “thin places.”

The Celts believed that there were certain locations—windswept cliffs, quiet glens, seaside monasteries—where the veil between heaven and earth grew thin. Places where the sacred seemed nearer. Where you could feel the presence of God more vividly.

They weren’t magical. They were just... still. Set apart. Saturated with a sense of presence. Now, theologically, we know God is everywhere. But even today, many believers will tell you: there are moments, even places, where you feel Him closer. In the middle of a worship service. At the end of a long walk. In a hospital room. Or alone, with a Bible open and tears in your eyes.

Those are our thin places. They remind us: God isn’t distant. He’s not far off in some untouchable realm. He is near. And in His nearness, joy rises. A quiet, holy joy that doesn’t need noise or spectacle. Just awareness.

Psalm 16:11 says, “In your presence there is fullness of joy.” And sometimes, the only thing separating us from that joy… is noticing. You don’t need to travel to the cliffs of Iona. You just need to pause, breathe, and remember: He’s here.


The Underground Church in China

In the heart of modern-day China, where Christian gatherings are often illegal and heavily monitored, the underground church is quietly thriving. Not in grand buildings, not through livestreams or conferences—but in whispers, house meetings, and handwritten Bibles.

One missionary told the story of attending a secret worship service. It was held in a basement, lit by a single bulb. No instruments. Just voices. Soft. Reverent. And yet—the joy was electric. As believers began to sing—hymns memorized because Bibles were scarce—tears streamed down faces. Not tears of fear. Tears of joy. Because they were together. And God was there. One young woman, who had been imprisoned for her faith, stood and simply said: “He was with me in the cell. I was never alone. And I am so happy to be with Him again in worship.”

No lights. No sound system. Just the presence of God… and the kind of joy that cannot be stolen. This isn’t joy born of ease. It’s the kind that grows when everything else is stripped away—when Christ is all you have, and somehow… you discover He is more than enough. It echoes the psalmist’s words: “In your presence there is fullness of joy.” Not in freedom. Not in safety. In Him.

Illustrations on Joy from U.S. History

Jonathan Edward's Revival

When people think of Jonathan Edwards, they often picture a stern preacher thundering out “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” But there’s another side to the story that many overlook—a side that shows the deep joy his ministry unleashed. During the First Great Awakening in the 1730s and 1740s, revival swept through New England. And though Edwards preached with gravity and conviction, what often followed his sermons wasn’t fear—it was joy.

People would weep. Not just with sorrow, but with relief, awe, and gratitude. They would stay in churches long after services ended, singing, praying, and simply lingering in the presence of God. Sometimes, people fell to the ground—not from theatrics, but overwhelmed by the nearness of Christ.

One local farmer wrote, “We walked home under the stars and did not speak, for the joy was too heavy for words.” Even children were affected. Edwards’ own daughter, Jerusha, described sitting in silence after a service, her heart “so full of joy I feared it would burst.”

These weren’t emotional outbursts for the sake of excitement. They were encounters. Edwards himself noted that true revival wasn’t measured by volume—but by a deep sense of God’s presence, and the joy that always accompanied it. It’s a reminder: even in the most intellectual or solemn settings, when God shows up… joy follows.

Illustrations on Joy from Jonathan Edwards Story

Illustrations on Joy from Sports

Reggie White's NFL Career

Reggie White was one of the most dominant defensive players in NFL history. A fierce competitor. A relentless sack machine. But off the field? He was something else entirely—a gentle, joyful, deeply spiritual man who found his identity not in football, but in God’s presence.

White wasn’t just a believer—he was a pastor. Even during his playing career, teammates would gather around him for Bible studies and prayer meetings. He once said: “I believe the joy that comes from being with God is better than any victory I’ve had on the field.” And that’s saying something—for a man with a Super Bowl ring and dozens of career records.

He was known for encouraging teammates, smiling during games, and even kneeling beside fallen opponents to pray. He carried himself with a peace and confidence that didn’t come from stats or contracts—it came from knowing he was walking with God.

Even in his final years, as his health declined, he remained joyful. Friends said that joy never faded because Reggie had learned how to live every moment—in fame, in pain, in retirement—in the presence of God. Reggie’s life shows us that real greatness isn’t just measured in tackles and trophies—but in the joy that flows when your soul is rooted in the One who never changes.


Little Known or Forgotten Characters

Richard Wurmbrand's Joy in God's Presence

Richard Wurmbrand was a Romanian pastor during the Communist takeover in the mid-20th century. For preaching the gospel, he was arrested and spent 14 years in prison—much of it in solitary confinement. He was tortured, starved, and forbidden to speak the name of Jesus.

But here’s the miracle: in the deepest darkness, he found joy. He later wrote that in his underground cell—barely able to stand, with no light, no music, no Bible—he would begin to dance. Alone. For joy. He said, “I have danced for joy in the cell where I was kept for three years. I felt the presence of the Lord.”

No choir. No crowd. Just Jesus. That’s the power of the presence of God. It turns prison into a sanctuary. It makes a man sing with broken ribs. Dance with bare feet on concrete.

Wurmbrand would emerge from prison with a glowing spirit—not bitter, not angry, but full of compassion and joy. He would go on to found The Voice of the Martyrs to support persecuted believers worldwide. His life proclaims what Scripture has always said: “In your presence there is fullness of joy.” Not in comfort. Not in freedom. In Him.


Illustrations on Joy from Interesting Court Cases

Clarence Gideon's Redemption

In 1961, a poor drifter named Clarence Earl Gideon was arrested in Florida for stealing change from a vending machine. He couldn’t afford a lawyer, and at the time, the court didn’t appoint attorneys for non-capital offenses.

So Gideon, with no legal training, defended himself. Unsurprisingly, he lost. Sent to prison. Forgotten. But from his jail cell, he handwrote a petition to the U.S. Supreme Court, arguing that his constitutional rights had been violated. In 1963, in a landmark decision—Gideon v. Wainwright—the Court ruled that every person, no matter how poor, has the right to legal representation.

Gideon was retried with a lawyer—and this time, found not guilty. Why does this matter? Because it reminds us of something spiritual: we all long to be defended, to be seen, to know we are not alone when we stand accused. And that’s exactly what the presence of God offers us in Christ.

The Bible says Jesus is our Advocate—our Defender before the Father. And in His presence, we don’t have to plead our own case. We are covered. Seen. Loved. There is deep joy in knowing that the Judge of all the earth doesn’t just rule over us—He stands with us.

Like Gideon, we’re not left to represent ourselves. In God's presence, we find an Advocate… and with Him, joy replaces fear.


Interesting or Little Known Facts

Dolphin's "Laughter"

Scientists studying dolphins have discovered something fascinating: when these playful creatures chase each other, toss seaweed, or leap through the surf, they emit a rapid burst of clicks and whistles—a sound pattern remarkably similar to human laughter.

It’s not a stretch of imagination. Many researchers now believe that dolphins may experience something close to joy—a kind of delight expressed through play. And here’s where it gets interesting for us.

Genesis tells us that God looked at all He had made and called it good. But maybe part of what He placed in creation wasn’t just functionality—but joy. Not just survival, but delight. Dolphins don’t laugh because of theology. But their joy, their playfulness, their leaping beauty, reflects something about their Maker.

And if even dolphins can express delight in the world He made, how much more can we—creatures made in His image—find joy in His presence. Psalm 96 says, “Let the seas roar, and all that fills it... let all creation rejoice before the Lord.”

Joy isn’t just spiritual—it’s cosmic. It echoes in oceans and galaxies, in forests and laughter, in the deep places of our soul. And when we step into God’s presence, we don’t become less human—we become more alive. More awake. More joyful. Like dolphins in the surf… we were made to rejoice.


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