It is gone. It died a slow poisoned death. And the weight of the loss is killing my hope of getting it back. It is easy to let the loss rob me of my ability to revive it. But I feel called to get up off my chair and battle for it instead. It is not lost forever unless I allow it to be. Choices: wallow in bereavement for it, ignore that fact that it is gone, or pick up my sword and slay the forces killing it. Why wouldn't I fight for it?
I have lost my joy. But it is not lost forever. Satan wants to keep me weeping about it but that only prevents me from finding it again. I want my joy for praising the Lord back, I want my joy for life back, I need my joy in serving God back. It will happen. Worship will stop being just another task to check off. Serving God will stop being an item on my to do list. I will return to a place of joy. I will fight for this. Satan, you have NO place here... stop robbing me.
"And foreigners who bind themselves to the LORD
to serve him,
to love the name of the LORD,
and to worship him,
all who keep the Sabbath without desecrating it
and who hold fast to my covenant-
these I will bring to my holy mountain
and give them joy in my house of prayer.
Their burnt offerings and sacrifices
will be accepted on my altar;
for my house will be called
a house of prayer for all nations."