Maverick City Music + Katie Torwalt + Dante Bowe + Naomi Raine - Joy of The Lord Lyrics

Video

Joy of the Lord (feat. Katie Torwalt, Dante Bowe & Naomi Raine) - Maverick City Music | TRIBL

Meaning & Inspiration

My hands aren’t what they used to be. The joints ache when the rain rolls in, and the skin is thin, mapped by lines that tell the history of things I’ve let go of. These days, I spend a lot of time sitting in that quiet space between sunset and sleep, looking at the faded pages of my Bible. I’ve heard plenty of songs over the decades, most of them burning bright for a month and then vanishing like smoke in a drafty room.

When I listened to Maverick City Music, Katie Torwalt, Dante Bowe, and Naomi Raine sing about the “joy of the Lord,” I found myself skeptical. It’s easy to sing about joy when your lungs are full and the world feels wide. But I’ve walked through winters—the kind that don’t just bring snow, but cold that settles into the marrow of your soul.

There’s a line in the first verse that caught me: “I’m pulling on joy from Heaven’s reserve / He’s stored up enough for every winter I’m served.”

That is a hard truth to hold onto when you’re standing in the middle of a valley. I’ve known times where I couldn't find a lick of happiness, where my bank account was empty and my heart was emptier. We often confuse joy with a pleasant mood, but looking back at forty years of rough road, I know now that joy isn't a feeling. It’s a supply. It’s what you draw from when you have absolutely nothing left in your own pockets.

The older I get, the more I realize that my strength has never been my own. Nehemiah told the people, “The joy of the Lord is your strength,” and I reckon he knew something about rebuilding ruins. He wasn’t talking about a party; he was talking about the grit required to keep standing when the walls are down and the work is hard.

Then they sing, “There will be glory after this.”

That’s a promise, but it’s a difficult one to stomach at 3:00 a.m. when the house is silent and the grief feels like a physical weight on your chest. Is there glory coming, or am I just telling myself stories to get through the night? I don’t always have an answer for that. Sometimes the silence is deafening. But then I look at these weathered hands, and I remember the times God showed up in the mundane, in the quiet, in the spaces where I thought I’d be alone.

I don’t know if this is just young folks’ enthusiasm or something steadier. Maybe it’s a bit of both. It’s easy to shout about glory when you’re young, but it takes a different kind of faith to whisper it when you’re tired. Yet, I suppose if the Lord is the beginning and the end, as the song says, then He is surely in the middle of this mess, too.

I’ll keep the record playing for a while longer. It’s good to be reminded that the reserve is there, even if I’m too weary to reach for it. Sometimes, simply knowing the well hasn't run dry is enough to help me close my eyes and rest.