Finding Joy in a Christmas Season You Thought Would Feel Joyful…but Doesn’t

During Advent, the word joy is everywhere. We hear it in sermons, see it in decorations, sing it in worship, and read it in our daily Bible studies. And yet, for many of us, this season doesn’t always feel joyful. Instead, it can feel heavy, disappointing, lonely, or painful. When that happens, we wonder whether we’re missing something or, worse, whether our faith is lacking.

Part of the struggle is that joy is often confused with happiness. We assume joy should feel like cheer, excitement, or emotional warmth. So when those feelings aren’t present, we conclude that joy must be absent too. But Scripture paints a very different picture.

Happiness is circumstantial. It happens when life goes the way we hoped, when prayers are answered quickly, when relationships feel easy, or when goals are finally reached. Happiness is a response to good moments, and while it’s a gift, it’s also temporary. It fades when circumstances change.

Joy, however, is different.

In the Bible, joy is not primarily an emotion; it’s a posture of the heart. Joy is the confidence in God’s character, even when life feels uncertain. It doesn’t ignore pain or rush past grief. Instead, joy coexists with sorrow. It allows us to acknowledge what hurts while still trusting that God is present, faithful, and working in ways we may not yet see.

One of the most meaningful pictures of this kind of joy comes from the Christmas story itself, specifically through Mary.

When we read Luke, we usually skip straight to the manger scene, but Mary’s story begins much earlier, in a moment of confusion and fear. She was young, unmarried, and living an ordinary life when an angel appeared and told her she would conceive by the Holy Spirit and give birth to the Savior of the world. This calling was holy, but it was also costly. Mary faced the very real risk of shame, rejection, misunderstanding, and loss.

Nothing about her circumstances guaranteed happiness.

And yet, after her conversation with the angel and her visit to Elizabeth, Mary responds not with denial or shallow optimism, but with worship. She says, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (Luke 1:46-47). This passage, usually called the Magnificat, is overflowing with joy, but it’s important to notice when this joy appears. Mary hadn’t seen the miracle fulfilled yet. She hadn’t been spared the difficulty. She hadn’t received reassurance about how everything would turn out.

Her joy was rooted not in comfort, but in trust.

Mary rejoiced because she knew who God was. She remembered His faithfulness to Israel, His care for the humble, and His promises to redeem His people. Her joy came from knowing God’s character, even while her future felt uncertain. This is biblical joy—not the absence of hardship, but confidence in God’s goodness within it.

So what if this Christmas season feels more like waiting than celebrating? What if joy feels distant because grief, exhaustion, or disappointment is louder right now?

That does not mean God is absent. It may mean He is working more deeply than you realize.

Scripture reminds us that joy is something God cultivates in us over time. In Paul’s letter to the Galatians, he describes the fruit of the Spirit, which is evidence of God’s Spirit at work in our lives. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience…” (Galatians 5:22). Fruit doesn’t appear overnight. It grows slowly, often unseen, nurtured through daily dependence on God.

This Christmas, joy may not look like laughter or excitement. It may look like faithfulness in the waiting. Like choosing to trust God when answers haven’t come yet. Like believing that He is near, even when feelings suggest otherwise.

Joy is not something you force; it’s something you receive as you remain with God. And even in a season where joy feels quiet or hidden, it is still being formed within you, rooted in the unchanging goodness of Christ.