I didn’t always feel joy.

I used to wonder if I ever would again.

Not because my life was especially tragic—but because grief and exhaustion had slowly hollowed out the places where joy once lived. There were seasons I felt numb. Tired. Alone in the very life I’d built.

Now, I do live with joy.

Not because my life is perfect.
Not because I never get into a funk (I do).
But because I see it now. I’ve been trained to look for it:

• In morning birdsong
• In my daughter’s laughter
• In my coffee cup
• In a hard conversation that leads to healing
• In a moment of quiet when I thought I had none
• And in the man I love now—a quiet, steady presence who reminds me that joy can return in the most unexpected way.

My first marriage taught me endurance, grace, and deep faith. It wasn’t easy. There were beautiful moments and real love, but there was also pain and years that wore us both down.
Still, I’m grateful for that part of my story—it shaped me.

And now, after all of it, I carry something new.
A love that came after the storms.
A love that feels like healing.
A love I never thought I’d know.

He is a gift I thank God for. Not to erase the past, but to remind me:
There is always more to the story.

This kind of joy doesn’t cancel the sorrow.
It grows through it.

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If you’re in a season of pruning, please hear this:
You are not being punished.
You are being prepared.
You are being brought back to something deeper, richer, and more beautiful than you can yet imagine.

Let Him do His work.
He is faithful.
He is gentle.
And He always brings joy in the morning.

With love,
Jenny

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