The people who choose joy before their circumstances change become the ones who change their circumstances.— Bill Johnson
There is so much happening in the world that you cannot afford to outsource your joy. The key to enjoying life does not lie in accumulating days or possessions but in intentionally appreciating and cherishing each moment granted to us.— Samuel Alimo
Joy is one of the profound gifts secured by the sacrifice of our Saviour, Jesus. Unlike the fleeting happiness the world offers, anchored in transient, perishable things, our joy is firmly rooted in the eternal, finished work of Christ on the cross.
When Habakkuk resolved to rejoice as stated in our anchor verses, he wasn’t practicing wishful thinking or denying reality. He saw the barrenness plainly, but because the Lord’s covenant-keeping work is incomparably greater than any dry season, he chose to worship. He saw the stark reality, a land without harvest, yet fixed his focus on God’s unchanging power.
That same invitation stands for us: to see our problems clearly but to fix our eyes on Christ’s blood-bought victory. Joy is not a fleeting emotion tethered to circumstances; it is a spiritual reality “through the blood” of Jesus.
From the Father’s perspective, there was joy in knowing that Christ’s sacrifice would justify many, and Hebrews picks up that same thread: “Looking away from all that will distract, to Jesus, Who is the Source and Finisher of our faith. He, for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is now seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2, AMPC).
Because His blood purchased our salvation, God the Father rejoiced in the outcome, and because our salvation was guaranteed before time began, Christ Himself endured every agony. This is “joy through the blood”: the unshakable gladness rooted in what Christ’s sacrifice accomplished, not in changing circumstances.
Even when our circumstances remain unchanged, we can still rejoice. While anticipating God’s help and favour to turn his situation around, David declared: “The intense pleasure You give me surpasses the gladness of harvest time… Because of You, Lord, I will lie down in peace and sleep comes at once; for no matter what happens, I will live unafraid!” (Psalm 4:7–8, TPT)
Too often we wait for the “harvest” before we allow ourselves to rejoice. We pray for a breakthrough, and if the situation remains the same, our joy withers. Yet true joy isn’t a reaction to what we see; it’s a response of faith to what Christ has already done. Even in seasons of unanswered prayers, we can “lie down in peace” because His blood secured our place before God.
Imagine a farmer staring at a barren field, convinced that crops will never come, and yet, by faith, knowing the exact day the harvest storehouse is already filled. That is the paradox: our joy flows “through the blood” because the victory is already won, even before we see its fruit. This isn’t pretending everything is fine; it’s actively choosing to focus on God’s finished work rather than our current lack.
Nevertheless, the enemy relentlessly targets that joy, for “the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). Satan doesn’t aim to steal our redemption. He cannot. But he aggressively attacks our joy. When that joy drains away, we become vulnerable, miserable and weak, as he bombards us with discouraging news that triggers anxiety about finances, health, relationships, or future plans. These legitimate concerns can easily eclipse the reality of Christ’s blood-bought victory.
Therefore, “joy through the blood” means refusing to let our hearts become a battleground for constant worry. We acknowledge our fears, recognising that the wheat fields might indeed be stunted, while simultaneously choosing to trust that Christ’s atonement is greater than any deficiency. After all,
The abundance Jesus promises isn’t found in material gain or problem-free living. It’s the overflowing, supernatural joy that arises when we fix our gaze on Calvary. This joy, however, isn’t automatic; it’s a discipline. Paul, writing from a prison cell, proclaimed, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4, NKJV)
His circumstances did not match his words. Still, he wrote as if they did, because his joy was grounded in Christ, not in earthly comfort. We, too, can learn to say “rejoice” even when our world feels restricted.
One of the greatest drains on our joy is trying to control what only God can handle: the timing of answers to prayers, the motives of other people, unforeseen outcomes. When we try to shoulder those burdens, we become overwhelmed and exhausted. Instead, we must realise that our responsibility is to pray faithfully, obey what God has revealed, and trust Him with the results. His responsibility is to answer in His perfect way and timing.
We must also guard our hearts as our “space”, the inner sanctuary where God’s Spirit dwells, refusing to let negativity, bitterness, or constant fear encroach upon it. If constant “bad news” cycles drain our joy, we must set healthy boundaries and remind ourselves daily: “Because of Christ’s blood, I am secure. I will replace fear with praise.”
To cultivate this joy, begin each day with Scripture affirmation: write down two or three passages that declare what Christ’s blood has accomplished (e.g., Romans 5:9; Ephesians 1:7; Colossians 1:14) and read them aloud, reminding your heart of your forgiven standing.
Then, in focused prayer time, begin with gratitude. List what Christ’s atonement has already won for you before moving to your requests. Surround yourself with songs, hymns and testimonies centred on Christ’s atoning work and exalt the cross to reinforce your joy.
Commit to memory “joy anchor” verses such as Nehemiah 8:10 or Philippians 4:4 and quote it back to your soul when anxiety threatens. Finally, journal at day’s end three ways you saw God at work, no matter how small. These “evidence of grace” entries train our hearts to notice God’s faithful hand and foster genuine gratitude.
Joy is your God-given inheritance; guard it diligently. Choose today to reclaim the territory of your heart by fixing your gaze on Jesus. Even if your prayers seem unanswered, even if fields are barren, even if night feels endless, the joy of knowing Christ lives in you will never fade. Stand firm in this truth and let your heart leap like a deer upon the high hills, confident that “the joy of the Lord is your strength.”