“Will happiness ever come?” I asked myself during sleepless nights. What is happiness, anyway?

That emotion made sense for others, but not for me. My world had turned dark. Blindness set in at age 31 and happiness was lost. Lost back in my days as a sighted person. Now, only gloom awaited me.

But how wrong I was. The journey from devastation to deep joy wasn’t easy nor fast, but doable. A reminder of that transition, that profound transformation, was stirred during my recent trip to Mexico.

The airport escort guided me as we entered the airplane. The flight attendant handed immigration forms to passengers. “One per family please.”

I sat by the window and after all initial announcements ended I pressed the light to call for assistance.

“Could you please help me fill this out?” I asked the flight attendant who came to the seat.

“Sure. Come with me.”

I gathered my stuff and followed him to the front of the airplane.

“You can sit here,” he said.

I settled in the seat, spacious and comfortable. I stretched out my legs, plenty of room. We finished the form and he asked if I wanted to stay in that seat. I was in first class. “Are you kidding?” I said with a silly grin, “Sure, would love that.”

I made myself comfortable and began to compare. Rather than getting the medicine-size cup of water I would get in the other section of the plane, I got a fresh, cold bottle of water. Rather than the tiny bag of peanuts, I got my choice of appetizers. The trip was, well, unexpectedly delightful.

I had made that same transition after I lost my sight. I had been taking tiny doses of happiness—in relationships, vacations, shopping, activities and superficial pass-times. I thought that was how one finds happiness.

But joy was different. When God offered me a seat in the VIP section of His love, I accepted. And the trip through life turned better.

Painful turbulence came, but His power calmed my heart. With Him as my pilot, guiding my life, momentary, superficial activities masked as happiness belonged in the coach section. Now a sweet, lasting, deep joy danced in my life.

He offers you the very same. He has a seat reserved just for you. And if you desire to leave behind the search to find happiness and instead relish in joy, complete joy that shines through your days, here are three steps we can all follow:

1. Change our perception. Recognize we don’t find happiness. We create it. We craft it by turning the key to unlock our heart and receive the joy God offers. His desire is that we live in complete joy. When happy moments, happy relationships, and happy results come to an end, joy remains.

2. Celebrate the promise God gave. During tough moments, painful stages, it’s not our strength, but His power that lifts us up and carries us through. Relying in that guarantee is what revives joy once again.

3. Call upon Him when sadness, gloom or fear draws near. Calling the powerful name of Jesus silences destructive thoughts of self-pity, loneliness, and discouragement. With them out of the way, joy will glow again.

Happiness ends in time. Joy lasts as long as God’s love. He promised: “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey My commands, you will remain in My love, just as I have obeyed My Father’s commands and remain in His love. I have told you this so that My joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete” (John 15:9-11).

Father, not human happiness, but your joy is what my soul hungers for. Thank you for the promise, thank you for the joy that fills my days no matter what comes my way. In Jesus’ name, amen.

“Whatever you ask in My name, that I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask Me anything in My name, I will do it.” John 14:13-14 (NASB); “Come to Me . . . and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28 (NASB)

I was walking in my backyard among our palm trees on a beautiful sun-filled Arizona morning. Worry had stolen thankfulness from my heart because I didn’t know how to protect my much-loved trees from what I had read about that morning: voracious beetles were eating the famous palm trees of Pasadena.

Even though we live surrounded by farms and agriculture in the northern part of the Phoenix valley; I was worried about our little grove of palm trees. I was lost in concern that those nasty Pasadena beetles might be planning a trip over the mountains from California to Arizona.

Strangely, I began to hear, “Talk to Me.”

I had heard the same words several times last week as I was intently struggling to write monthly articles for publishers I’m committed to. I had begun wondering whether I was having brain issues. Having experienced a massive stroke and two other life-threatening medical problems within the last year, I thought perhaps I had more damage than I was aware of. Then, it dawned on me that maybe the Lord was trying to get my attention, so I started to pray.

I explained my concern and asked Him to take care of my palm trees. I felt at peace and trusted Jesus as I prayed in His name, as John 14:13-14 had told me. I felt confident because Jesus had promised that if I would ask Him directly for “anything in His name,” He would do it. Feeling free to ask for protection for my palm trees, I claimed the power of Jesus’ name.

To be honest, I felt a bit childish in talking to Him about such a small concern. But, I’ve discovered that being childlike in Jesus’ presence brings comfort and relaxation.

I came to understand that my Lord wanted me to stop getting lost in intently being concerned about how to change things by myself. Spending a good part of my life isolating from my emotions and how much I needed both Jesus and other’s help has caused the loss of much joy for both myself and my family. Having been raised to never show anyone when you are hurt, or afraid; I had thought my heavenly Father also expected this of me.

My palm trees taught me that I usually didn’t talk to Jesus as a good, trustworthy friend (John 15:14) who was concerned about what was bothering me. I was afraid of bothering Him with small things because He is so important and deals with such important things. My talking about beetles seemed to be a self-centered attitude.

Then, my heart opened in a new way to Jesus —I felt He loved me and wanted to talk to me about everyday life. He wanted to know what was bothering me, even if was beetles. With this understanding came wonderful warmth and relaxation.

I learned that if God’s children will talk to Jesus about what tightens them up and leave it with Him, they will start learning about what prayer really is. We will find a peace and relaxation that nothing in this life provides. Our families will stop missing out on a lot of joy and peace that we forfeit when we don’t talk to Jesus personally about our strain, worries, and fears.

Claiming the power of Jesus’ name during our prayers, we are strong in the trust that Jesus is in charge and will deal with what is bothering us. Talking to Jesus about everyday life is a recipe for satisfaction.

I don’t know about you, but for me, waiting is tough! I hate to wait. Why is waiting so hard? Because waiting implies that we do not have control over our circumstances or the timing of events in our lives. We like to think that we own our destiny, yet if we are honest we would admit that we can barely see beyond today.

We might have plans and dreams, but really, today are we where we thought we would be five, 10, or 15 years ago? So who is to say where we will be in the future? Only God knows that. In my experience, He usually remains rather silent on the issue of disclosing what is to come. He allows us to walk day by day and sometimes those days seem to drag out. Whether there is something we really want to do, or even when we feel like we have no direction whatsoever, the times and seasons of our lives can become unbearable.

Can become unbearable, if we let them. Psalm 27 is a wonderful Psalm that can help us through those difficult, unexplainable times. In this passage, David is expressing angst over the adversaries in his life but he also lets the deep cry of his heart come out. It is a cry that is centered on his desire to simply be with God.

“One thing I have asked from the Lord, that I shall seek; That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, To behold the beauty of the Lord and to meditate in His temple.” Psalm 27:4 (NASB)

More than anything, David wanted to be with the Lord. Verses 8 and 9 continue the thought:

“When you said, ‘Seek my face,’ my heart said to You, ‘Your face, O Lord, I shall seek.’ Do not hide your face from me, Do not turn Your servant away in anger; You have been my help; Do not abandon me nor forsake me, O God of my salvation!” Psalm 27:8-9 (NASB)

The Lord had given David the challenge – “Seek my face.” David understood the challenge and knew that sometimes, seeking God’s face is easier said than done. Why? Because as was mentioned earlier, our plans and dreams don’t always turn out as we expected. Sometimes, it appears God plays a game of hide and seek. Finding Him is not as simple as it may seem. It takes work to find God.

David closes the Psalm with a great encouragement.

“I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.” Psalm 27:13 (NASB)

There was a firmly rooted conviction in David’s heart – no matter how tough, bizarre, or long the days seemed, he knew he was going to see the goodness of God in his life. Holding fast to this truth allowed him to endure and, quite literally, changed the rules of the game from “hide and seek” to “wait and seek.” David goes on to say in Verse 14 (NASB),

“Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord.”

If we believe that God has good things for us, we will be willing to wait for them. Courage will give us the strength to wait for God while we seek him. Sounds like a contradiction, doesn’t it? Just like in the real game of hide and seek, everyone wants to be found. Those in the best hiding places will eventually reveal themselves if the seeker is patient. If by faith we seek God by waiting for Him, He will inevitably come to us.

“Bed rest,” Dr. Omar declares. “The bleeding is caused by placenta previa — a condition where the placenta is located too close to the uterus’ opening. Unless this is reversed it is likely that you’ll lose this baby.”

You don’t always receive the words of your doctor — sometimes not at all. But they must be considered. Yes, they are often like the taunting from a giant across the field of battle. “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field.”

But you know who you are. You are part of the army of God — the one true God who created the universe.

How can this uncircumcised Philistine dare to say the things he is saying about your God? When he taunts you, he is coming against the Holy One of Israel — because you are His child, and the apple of His eye.

Yes, you know who you are — but the words must be considered.

While the threats try to fill your mind, other words are ignited in your conscience; familiar words of life that crowd out the words of death.

“He will live and not die, and declare the glory of the Lord.”

“No weapon formed against us shall prosper.”

“If God is for us who can be against us.”

Fight, we will. Yes, we will consider these words, and we will talk back with more powerful oratory — “The Name that is above all names.”

And so, bed rest it is. For while our weapons of warfare are not carnal, we will not put our God to a foolish test. Yes, we trust that God is well able to heal — through the hands of a physician, or any way He chooses.

After two days in bed, the bleeding persists. Three, four, five days and no change. We miss church on the sixth day, and the brethren are asked to pray.

The seventh day comes and still no change. Then the telephone rings. “We have been seeking God for a healing in our own lives,” the brother tells us. “We’ve been reading a book that talks about the bathing prayer.”

“Bathing prayer?” It sounds familiar, but I’m not quite sure what it is.

“The book was written by Francis MacNutt. In the bathing prayer, you play worship music and just pray until you don’t feel like praying anymore.”

Praying through — I remember the concept from church. “Sure, come on over.”

Worship tapes come in the mail every other month from Integrity music. They are soothing and inspiring. They usher you into the presence of God. We decide to play one of those while we bathe the baby in prayer.

The brother and sister come to the door. We live in an upstairs apartment so I go down to greet them. Mother is already in the ‘hot seat’ when we come into the room. That’s was what we call it at cell group — ‘the hot seat’ — the chair in the middle of the room that people sit in when it’s their turn to receive prayer. I turn on the worship tape and we start to exalt the Lord.

No matter what the enemy is yelling across the battlefield, our hope is in God. We will go forth in praise to meet our foe.

The battle is the Lord’s.

In time, the enemy is engaged. We will not receive the report of the evil one. One by one we pray as the Holy Spirit places the words on our hearts. When one is finished the others worship along with the recorded choir, or pray in tongues — allowing the Spirit of God to pray through us in a heavenly language. And then another prays in English, declaring the promises of God over the baby and Mother.

A half an hour goes by. Then forty-five minutes. Suddenly, a great boldness sweeps over me. The Devil will not have this child. Goliath will not feed our bones to the dogs. I begin to prophesy.

“This child will live and not die, and declare the glory of the Lord. For this child will have the spirit of David. He will be bold. He will not shy away from the lion or the bear. He will not allow the words of the giant to go unmet. He will have a warrior spirit within him. The Spirit of the Living God will be upon him and he will do great exploits in His Name.”

“Yes, the Name that is above every other name.”

Twenty more minutes go by, and then things grow quiet. We had prayed through. The tape comes to an end and the room is silent, other than a whispered: “Thank you, Jesus.”

Suddenly the brother speaks. “I don’t normally do this,” he says awkwardly, “but as you were giving the word of the Lord, I felt like God said this baby would be a boy.”

Mother nods her head, smiling. “Yes,” she agrees, “and the Lord said that we were to name him David.”

It is a moment. Each person in the room is confident that we have met God. Tears fill the eyes of the sister and she squeezes both of our hands tightly.

Two more days go by and it is time to visit Doctor Omar again. Would the giant have any more words?

“I don’t know what to say,” he exclaims, smiling and shaking his head. “The placenta is no longer compromised and the bleeding has all but stopped.”

We smile with him and give glory to the Name that is above all names.

David is in third grade now. He should be in second, but he finished Kindergarten in less than half a year, and first grade in the other half. His teacher tells us that he races through his lessons in school and has to wait for everyone else to finish. “If it weren’t for the trouble with his handwriting, I wouldn’t have any difficulty with him at all,” she tells us.

Whose report will we believe? The report of the warrior who says, “The battle is the Lord’s.”