Lighting the Rose Candle—Discovering Joy in the Most Unlikely Places


Doesn’t it feel as though joy belongs to younger years? For when life is full of energy and possibility. But what if the deepest joy comes not from what we have, but from who we know—and He has been with us all along?

True joy does not depend on circumstances. It comes from knowing you are seen, known, and loved by God.

Scripture:

“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant.” – Luke 1:46-48 (NIV)

Additional Verses:

  • “The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus.” – Isaiah 35:1 (ESV)
  • “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” – Philippians 4:4 (NIV)
  • “You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.” – Psalm 16:11 (NIV)

Scripture Reflection

On Luke 1:46-48 (Mary’s Song) – Mary was young, poor, unmarried, and pregnant in a culture that could stone her for it. Her circumstances were terrifying. Yet she burst into song: “My soul glorifies the Lord!” Why? Because God had been “mindful” of her. He saw her. He chose her. He was with her. Her joy was not rooted in her circumstances—it was rooted in being known and loved by God. That is the kind of joy that can exist even when life is hard: the joy of being seen by the One who matters most.

On Isaiah 35:1 – The wilderness will be glad. The desert will rejoice. These are the last places you would expect to find joy—empty, dry, lifeless places. But God specializes in bringing joy to unlikely places. Your season of life might feel like wilderness—strength fading, losses piling up, isolation increasing. But Isaiah promises: even here, even now, joy can bloom. Not because circumstances get better, but because God shows up in the wilderness and makes it bloom.

On Philippians 4:4 – Paul wrote this from prison. Read that again: prison. Chains. Uncertainty. Possible death. And yet: “Rejoice in the Lord always.” Not “rejoice when circumstances are good.” Always. In all circumstances. How? Because joy is found “in the Lord”—not in circumstances, but in relationship with the One who never changes, never leaves, never stops being good.

On Psalm 16:11 – Joy is found in God’s presence. Not in youth regained or health restored or losses reversed. In His presence. The beautiful truth for those in later life: you have had decades to grow aware of God’s presence. You have walked with Him through seasons that young people have not experienced yet. Your capacity for joy in His presence might actually be deeper now than it has ever been—not despite your age, but because of it.


Additional Commentary: Gaudete Sunday and the Joy of the Third Week

The third Sunday of Advent is traditionally called “Gaudete Sunday”—from the Latin word for “rejoice.” It is why we light the rose or pink candle instead of purple—a lightening of the color, a brightening of the mood. We are more than halfway through Advent. Christmas is coming. Joy is near.

But here is what is deep: the joy we celebrate is not waiting until Christmas arrives. It is available now, in the waiting. In fact, the waiting itself can be joyful when we remember what—or rather, who—we are waiting for.

Mary understood this. When the angel appeared with impossible news, she did not wait until after Jesus was born to rejoice. She rejoiced immediately, while still pregnant, while circumstances were still complicated and frightening. Why? Because God had seen her, chosen her, and was with her. That was enough for joy.

In later life, we are often in a season of waiting. Waiting for test results. Waiting for pain to ease. Waiting for the family to visit. Waiting for the next stage of life, whatever that looks like. Waiting can feel joyless.

But Advent teaches us: joy is not found at the end of waiting. It is found in the presence of the One we are waiting with. He is here now. With you. In this moment. In this season. And His presence—that alone—is reason for joy.


Stories

Virginia’s Unexpected Christmas: Joy in the Hospital

Virginia, 81, spent the third week of Advent in the hospital recovering from a fall that broke her hip. “I was supposed to host Christmas,” she said, tears streaming. “Fourteen family members coming. I’d been planning for months. And now… this.”

Her hospital room felt like the opposite of joy. Pain. Limitation. Disappointment. Missing out on what she’d looked forward to all year.

On Gaudete Sunday, her granddaughter visited with a small gift: a battery-operated candle. “It’s the rose candle, Grandma. For joy. We’re lighting it at home today, and I wanted you to light one here too.”

Virginia looked at the candle skeptically. “What’s there to be joyful about? I’m stuck here. Christmas is ruined.”

Her granddaughter sat on the edge of the bed. “Grandma, remember what you always taught us? That joy isn’t about circumstances—it’s about Jesus. You’ve said that my whole life. Did you mean it?”

Virginia was silent. Then, slowly, she nodded. “I meant it.”

“Then light the candle,” her granddaughter urged gently. “And tell me one thing you’re joyful about today. Just one.”

Virginia lit the candle. Through tears, she said, “I’m joyful… that you’re here. That you came.”

Her granddaughter smiled. “What else?”

“I’m joyful that… that I’m alive. That the fall could have been so much worse.”

“What else?”

And slowly, almost against her will, Virginia began listing: “I’m joyful that the nurses are kind. That my roommate shared her pudding with me. That I can see the snow falling outside my window. That God hasn’t abandoned me, even though I feel abandoned. That Christmas isn’t about hosting—it’s about Jesus coming.”

By the end, Virginia was smiling through her tears. “You know what? I’m discovering joy I didn’t know was there. It was buried under disappointment. But it’s here. Even here, in this hospital room, joy is here.”

Virginia’s family brought Christmas to her hospital room—carols on a phone speaker, wrapped gifts, a small artificial tree. “It wasn’t the Christmas I planned,” Virginia reflected months later. “But it was one of the most joy-filled Christmases of my life. Because I finally understood: joy isn’t about circumstances being right. It’s about Jesus being present. And He was there—in that hospital room, in my granddaughter’s visit, in the unexpected gifts of a strange Christmas. Joy found me in the wilderness.”

Research from the Journal of Positive Psychology shows that gratitude practices (like Virginia’s listing of joys) significantly increase positive emotions even in adverse circumstances. But Virginia discovered the deeper truth: joy is a Person, and He meets us wherever we are.

Leonard’s Laughter: Rediscovering Delight at 87

Leonard, 87, had become bitter. His wife died three years ago. His health was declining. He rarely smiled, never laughed. “What’s there to be happy about?” he’d snap when anyone tried to cheer him.

But during the third week of Advent, something unexpected happened. His great-grandson, age 4, came to visit and was fascinated by Leonard’s hearing aids.

“What are those, Great-Grandpa?” the boy asked, pointing.

“Hearing aids,” Leonard grumbled. “Because I’m old and my ears don’t work.”

The boy’s eyes went wide. “Like superpowers? Can you hear everything?”

Leonard blinked. “What?”

“You have robot ears! That’s so cool!” The boy started pretending his fingers were antennas. “Beep beep! Robot Great-Grandpa with super hearing!”

Despite himself, Leonard smiled. Then chuckled. Then burst into laughter—deep, genuine laughter he hadn’t felt in years. His great-grandson laughed too, delighted. They spent the next hour playing “robot,” with the boy narrating Leonard’s “superpowers.”

After the visit, Leonard sat quietly, something stirring in him. “I forgot,” he said aloud to himself. “I forgot what joy feels like.”

He looked at the Advent wreath his daughter had brought—the rose candle burned bright. Leonard realized: he’d been so focused on what he’d lost (his wife, his health, his independence) that he’d become blind to what remained. A great-grandson who loved him. The ability to laugh. The gift of another day. The presence of God, even in grief.

“Joy isn’t about having everything,” Leonard reflected later. “It’s about noticing what you do have. That little boy reminded me: there’s still wonder in the world. There’s still laughter. There’s still joy. I just had to remember how to see it.”

Leonard started a practice: every night before bed, he’d tell God one thing that brought him joy that day. “Some days it’s hard to find,” he admitted. “But it’s always there. Today’s toast tasted good. The sun came out. Someone called to check on me. Small joys. But they add up. And when you start looking for joy, you find it everywhere.”

Dr. Robert Emmons’ research on gratitude and joy shows that even in depression and grief, intentional attention to small positive experiences can begin to rewire neural pathways toward joy. Leonard discovered this: joy is a practice, not just a feeling. You train yourself to notice it.

Doris and the Magnificat: Finding Her Voice Again

Doris, 76, had been a singer her whole life—church choir, community theater, leading worship. But a stroke affected her speech and her ability to sing. “I lost my voice,” she said sadly. “The one thing I loved most.”

During the third week of Advent, her church was studying Mary’s Magnificat—her song of joy in Luke 1. Doris listened to the pastor read: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”

“Mary was probably terrified,” the pastor said. “She was young, unwed, pregnant, vulnerable. But she sang anyway. Not because circumstances were perfect, but because God had seen her. Joy burst out of her despite her circumstances.”

Something clicked in Doris. She couldn’t sing with her voice anymore. But could she still sing with her soul?

That week, Doris began what she called her “silent Magnificat.” Every morning, she’d sit with Luke 1:46-55 and pray it slowly, letting Mary’s words become her own: “My soul glorifies the Lord… He has been mindful of the humble state of his servant… The Mighty One has done great things for me.”

She couldn’t sing the words aloud, but her soul sang them. And in that singing, joy returned.

“I thought joy was tied to my ability to perform,” Doris explained. “But Mary taught me: joy isn’t about what I can do. It’s about what God has done. He’s been mindful of me—even in my weakness, even with my limitations, even now. That’s reason enough to rejoice.”

Doris started writing her own Magnificat—a journal of all the ways God had been mindful of her through 76 years. “He lifted me up when I was low. He filled me when I was empty. He remembered me when I felt forgotten. My voice may be weak, but my soul can still sing. And that’s a deeper joy than I ever knew when singing came easy.”

At Christmas, Doris’s church asked if she’d participate in the service. She couldn’t sing, but she read Mary’s Magnificat aloud—slowly, with difficulty, but with profound joy. When she finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the sanctuary.

“That’s the most beautiful version of the Magnificat I’ve ever heard,” someone told her afterward.

Doris smiled. “Because it’s not just Mary’s song anymore. It’s mine. My soul really does glorify the Lord. And my spirit really does rejoice in God my Savior. You don’t need a perfect voice to sing that song. You just need a grateful heart.”

Research in music therapy and aging shows that even when physical ability to create music is impaired, the emotional and spiritual benefits of engaging with music (through listening, reading, remembering) remain powerful. But Doris discovered something deeper: joy isn’t about what we can do—it’s about what God has done for us.


Reflection

The third candle of Advent is different from the others. While the rest are purple—the color of repentance and royalty—this one is rose or pink, representing joy. It’s a lightening, a brightening, a reminder that we’re more than halfway through the waiting. Joy is near.

But here’s what’s crucial: the joy we celebrate isn’t contingent on Christmas arriving or circumstances improving. It’s available now, in the middle of waiting, in the midst of difficulty, even in seasons that feel like wilderness.

Look at Mary. She was probably 14 or 15 years old when the angel appeared. She was poor, living in occupied territory under Roman rule. The angel’s announcement meant scandal, danger, uncertainty. She could have been stoned. Joseph could have divorced her publicly. Her life was about to get incredibly complicated.

And yet—she sang. Not a tentative song or a reluctant hymn. She burst into the Magnificat, one of the most beautiful expressions of joy in all of Scripture: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!”

Why? Because “he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant.” God saw her. God chose her. God was with her. That was enough. That was everything. That was reason for joy that circumstances couldn’t touch.

This is the kind of joy Advent invites us into: joy rooted not in circumstances but in relationship. Joy that springs from knowing you are seen, known, chosen, and loved by God. Joy that can blossom even in wilderness.

Virginia discovered this in a hospital room. Leonard found it through a child’s laughter. Doris recovered it when she couldn’t sing anymore. Each of them learned what Mary knew: joy isn’t about life being easy or perfect. Joy is about God being present and faithful.

In later life, this kind of joy becomes especially important because circumstances rarely stay perfect. Bodies age. Health declines. Loved ones pass away. Independence shrinks. If our joy depends on circumstances, we’re in trouble.

But if our joy is rooted in God’s unchanging presence and faithful character—if we can say with Mary, “He has been mindful of me; the Mighty One has done great things for me”—then joy can survive anything. It can even bloom in the wilderness.

Isaiah 35:1 promises exactly this: “The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus.” Where? In the wilderness. In the desert. In the dry land. These aren’t metaphors for good times—they’re images of hardship, barrenness, difficulty. And yet God promises: even there, joy will blossom.

How? Because God shows up in the wilderness. He showed up for Mary in her frightening circumstances. He showed up for Virginia in her hospital room. He showed up for Leonard in a moment of laughter. He showed up for Doris when she couldn’t sing.

And He shows up for you. Right where you are. In whatever wilderness you’re walking through. In whatever desert season you’re experiencing. He’s there. And His presence—His faithfulness, His love, His choosing of you—that’s reason for joy.

Paul wrote from prison: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” Not “rejoice in your circumstances.” Rejoice in the Lord. Find your joy not in what’s happening around you, but in who is with you.

This is why Gaudete Sunday exists. Halfway through Advent, when waiting might feel weary, we pause to remember: joy isn’t only at the destination. Joy is available in the journey because Jesus is present in the journey.

Henri Nouwen wrote: “Joy is not the same as happiness. Happiness depends on what happens; joy does not. Joy is the experience of knowing that you are unconditionally loved.” That’s Mary’s joy. That’s Advent joy. That’s the joy available to you today: the joy of knowing you are unconditionally loved by the God who is mindful of you, who has done great things for you, who will never leave you.

The rose candle burns brighter because we’re remembering: we’re not waiting alone in the dark. We’re waiting with the Light of the World, and He brings joy wherever He goes—even into hospital rooms, even into grief, even into the limitations of aging bodies.

Your circumstances might not change. But joy can still blossom. Not manufactured happiness. Not forced cheerfulness. But genuine, deep, soul-level joy—the kind that sings “My soul glorifies the Lord” even when life is hard, because you know you’re seen, known, chosen, and deeply loved.


Practical Truths (Going Deeper)

  • Joy is a practice, not just a feeling. Leonard learned to look for one joy each day. Virginia practiced listing joys even in the hospital. Doris wrote her own Magnificat. Joy grows when we intentionally notice it. Start small: find one thing to be joyful about today, then tomorrow, then the next day. Train your soul to see joy.
  • Joy can coexist with sorrow. You don’t have to pretend everything is fine to experience joy. Virginia was genuinely disappointed about missing Christmas. Doris genuinely grieved her lost singing voice. Leonard genuinely missed his wife. But joy found them anyway—not by denying sorrow, but by recognizing God’s presence within it.
  • Small joys matter. Leonard’s great-grandson. Virginia’s kind nurses. Doris’s ability to read Scripture. These aren’t huge things. But joy is often found in small, ordinary moments when we pay attention. Don’t dismiss small joys as insignificant. They’re God’s gifts to you today.
  • Joy is found in being known by God. Mary’s joy wasn’t about her circumstances—it was about God being “mindful” of her. You are seen. You are known. You are chosen. You are loved. That’s reason for joy that circumstances can’t take away.
  • Rejoicing is a choice. Paul commanded it: “Rejoice always.” Not “feel happy always” but “rejoice always”—make the choice to fix your eyes on God’s goodness, to remember His faithfulness, to celebrate His presence. Even when you don’t feel it, you can choose it. And often, the feeling follows the choice.

Prayer

God of Joy, as we light this rose candle—this bright spot in the midst of waiting—we remember that joy is not about circumstances being perfect. It is about You being present. Like Mary, we want to sing: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!” But Lord, sometimes it is hard. Sometimes life feels more like wilderness than celebration. Sometimes we are in hospital rooms like Virginia, or grieving like Leonard, or unable to do what we once could like Doris. But You promise that even wilderness can bloom. Even deserts can rejoice. So we ask: help us see the joy that is already here. Open our eyes to small gifts—a grandchild’s laughter, a kind word, a moment of peace. Remind us that we are seen by You, that You notice us, choose us, love us. Let that truth sink deep enough to make joy—not fake happiness, but genuine soul-deep joy that sings Your praise even when circumstances are hard. Teach us to rejoice always, to find our joy in You rather than in our circumstances. Come, Joy of our hearts. We light this candle for You. Amen.


Call to Connection

Today’s Challenge: Start a “joy practice” this week. Each evening, write down or tell someone one thing that brought you joy that day—no matter how small. Train your soul to notice joy, and watch how it multiplies. Also, consider writing your own Magnificat like Doris—a list of all the ways God has been “mindful” of you through your life.

Community: What unexpected joy has found you recently? Share in the comments—your joy might spark joy in someone else! If you’re struggling to find joy in this season, leave the word “Joy” below and we’ll pray for your eyes to be opened to see it.


Related Music

  • “Joy to the World” – Isaac Watts (Traditional Hymn)
  • “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee” – Henry van Dyke (Traditional Hymn)
  • “O Come, All Ye Faithful” – Traditional Carol
  • “The Magnificat” – Various settings (Mary’s song from Luke 1)

Facts & Research

  • Research from the Journal of Positive Psychology shows that gratitude practices significantly increase positive emotions even in adverse circumstances, with effects lasting weeks beyond the practice.
  • Dr. Robert Emmons’ extensive research demonstrates that intentional attention to positive experiences can rewire neural pathways toward joy, even in depression and grief.
  • Studies in music therapy and aging show that engaging with music (even when unable to perform) maintains emotional and spiritual benefits.
  • Research published in Emotion found that older adults actually experience positive emotions more frequently and intensely than younger adults, and are better at regulating negative emotions—suggesting capacity for joy may increase with age.
  • The Harvard Study of Adult Development found that quality of relationships is the strongest predictor of happiness and life satisfaction—supporting Mary’s joy found in relationship with God.

Quotes from Resource Persons

Henri Nouwen, Spiritual Writer: “Joy is not the same as happiness. Happiness depends on what happens; joy does not. Joy is the experience of knowing that you are unconditionally loved.”

C.S. Lewis, Author: “Joy is the serious business of Heaven.”

G.K. Chesterton: “Joy, which was the small publicity of the pagan, is the gigantic secret of the Christian.”

Mother Teresa: “Joy is prayer; joy is strength; joy is love; joy is a net of love by which you can catch souls.”

Tim Keller, Pastor: “Joy is not the absence of trouble but the presence of Christ.”


Source/Footnotes

  • Luke 1:39-55 (The Magnificat); Isaiah 35:1-10; Philippians 4:4; Psalm 16:11 (NIV/ESV)
  • Journal of Positive Psychology research on gratitude and positive emotions
  • Emmons, R. “Thanks! How the New Science of Gratitude Can Make You Happier”
  • Music therapy research on aging and emotional benefits
  • Emotion journal studies on positive emotions and aging
  • Harvard Study of Adult Development findings
  • Nouwen, H. “Life of the Beloved”
  • Lewis, C.S. “Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer”
  • Stories of Virginia, Leonard, and Doris are composites based on pastoral care experiences, with names and details changed to protect privacy.

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