When You’re Searching for Joy

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.
—Hebrews 12:1-3

There is something both humbling and comforting in this passage for a grieving heart. We are told that Jesus went ahead of us on the pathway of suffering, not because pain was His purpose, but because joy was. He was mocked, beaten, stripped of dignity, and rejected by men. He endured shame that should have crushed Him. And yet Scripture tells us that He pressed on “for the joy that was set before Him.” Not because the suffering itself was joyful, but because He could see that it would accomplish humanity’s redemption, restoration, and eternal fellowship with God.

For Hope Moms who are walking through loss, joy can feel far away and, at times, even confusing. We may feel that laughing, smiling, or experiencing happiness means forgetting our baby or moving on too quickly. What Scripture calls joy is not the same as fleeting happiness or the absence of pain. It is a deeper, steadier hope rooted in who God is and what He has promised. We also know that Scripture speaks of joy as something God desires for His people, but grief has a way of making that feel completely out of reach. It is hard to reconcile this depth of sorrow with the call to rejoice. Often, instead of joy, we find discouragement and weariness settling into our hearts. And sometimes, without even realizing it, we begin searching for joy in the wrong places, in our circumstances, in our children, and in outcomes we cannot control (like whether or not we are able to become pregnant again).

Hebrews gently redirects our gaze. It does not minimize suffering, and it does not ask us to pretend we are unaffected. Instead, it calls us to look to Jesus. He is named here as both the “founder and perfecter” of our faith. In other words, He is not only the one who begins our journey, but the one who sustains us through it. He is the One who restores what grief threatens to take and the One who keeps shaping our hearts toward what is eternal, even when what is temporal feels unbearably broken.

From where we stand now, the joy of what is to come can feel impossible to see. Heaven can seem distant, and the promises of restoration can feel abstract when our arms are empty and our hearts ache (1 Corinthians 13:12). But Scripture assures us that our story is not confined to what is visible, Jesus endured the cross because He could see beyond it (2 Corinthians 4:18). He could see the joy that suffering would give way to and the redemption His anguish would accomplish (Isaiah 53:11). And in His kindness, He calls us to run our race with that same eternal perspective (Philippians 3:13–14).

This does not mean we deny our pain. It means we are learning, slowly and often imperfectly, to lay aside what weighs us down and to fix our eyes on the One who holds the end of the story. It means we are being taught to release worry, discontentment, and the belief that our circumstances define our future. It means we are learning to trust that God is still working for our ultimate good, even in the brokenness of baby loss. 

Hebrews 12:1 also reminds us that we are not running this race alone. We are surrounded by a “great cloud of witnesses,” and in God’s kindness, He places fellow believers in our lives to walk with us, encourage us, and remind us of truth when our own hearts feel faint. Joy is not something we are meant to pursue in isolation. It is often rediscovered in community, in shared sorrow, in gentle reminders of who God is and what He has promised.

The tenderness of this passage is easy to miss if we read too quickly. God does not want His children to grow weary or lose heart. He knows how heavy life can feel, and so He points us again to the source of lasting joy. Not in circumstances that shift and fail us, but in Christ Himself. The One who endured suffering for our sake. The One who reigns even now. The One who is still shaping our faith and restoring our joy, step by step, as we learn to walk with Him. 

If you are currently searching for joy after loss, I am praying for you, friend. Please know that our God is not disappointed in you. He knows how heavy grief can feel, and He is not asking you to outrun your sorrow. He is gently calling you to lift your eyes and to consider Christ. To trust that even here, in the brokenness you did not choose, He is still leading you toward a joy that cannot be taken away. And, Hope Mom, don’t forget that this joy is not only something we await in heaven. If you belong to Christ, He is with you right now, and His joy is already at work in you, even in the darkest night. 

Jennie is the Executive Director for Hope Mommies. She and her husband Brian live in Oregon and have four children together— Trenton, Paige who has been in Heaven with Jesus since 2010, Mason, and Cora. If you were to knock on her front door today, you’d find her in something comfortable drinking a hot cup of tea, while trying to figure out how to balance all the things that make up a life. She enjoys spending time in God’s word, fresh flowers, board games with her kids, cooking, and evening walks in her neighborhood. She adores being a new creation in Christ and prays she reflects Him well on this earth.