Isaiah 55:1–13
There’s a moment in Isaiah 55 where the tone shifts in the most tender way. After all the invitations to come, to drink, to listen, to receive – God offers this promise:
“You shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace.”
It’s a phrase that feels like a deep breath. A hand on the shoulder. A reminder that even in seasons when we’re tired or stretched or unsure, God’s desire is not simply that we survive the journey, but that we find joy along the way.
Not forced joy. Not cheerful performance. Not “pretend everything is fine” joy.
But the kind of joy that sustains you. The kind that rises quietly, like a dawn you didn’t think would come. The kind that meets you in real life, not ideal circumstances.
Isaiah’s people knew what it was to feel weary. They understood longing, dislocation, uncertainty. That’s what makes this promise so powerful: joy isn’t something we muster, it’s something God gives as a gift. It’s part of how God sustains us.
So this week’s practice is simple. Joy doesn’t always arrive with trumpets. Sometimes it slips in through small cracks in our day. But the more we pay attention, the more we notice that God is faithfully placing small lights along our path, quiet glimmers of joy that whisper:
“I’m here. Keep going. You’re not alone.”
This week, I invite you to practice noticing joy in small, accessible, everyday ways.
- Pause once a day and ask yourself, “What brought me even a small spark of joy today?” It doesn’t need to be profound.
It might be: the warmth of your morning mug, sunlight on the kitchen floor, a conversation that made you feel seen, a moment of rest you didn’t expect. Let it be whatever rings true. - Name the moment without trying to enlarge it. Just notice it. Hold it gently. Joy doesn’t demand analysis. It asks only to be received.
- Give thanks for that small joy. A simple prayer is enough:
- “Holy One, thank you for this moment of joy. Sustain me through it.”
- Write these moments down. Not as a project, but as a way of honouring the truth that joy is still present, still arriving, still breaking into your life like new light.
Isaiah’s promise isn’t that life will always be easy. But it is that joy and peace are woven into the journey as gifts from God – steady as rain, gentle as snow, faithful as breath.
May you discover small joys this week.
May they sustain you.
And may you sense, in simple and surprising ways,
the God who walks with you,
leading you in peace. AMEN
