Joy: The Most Vulnerable Emotion by Erin

The scripture of the day on my Bible app is Philippians 4:4 — “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say it, Rejoice!”

Not necessarily something profound or new, but as I read it to the kids at breakfast and we talked about what this means — is this circumstantial, is this a choice, is this a command? — it got me thinking about a podcast that I have been mulling over the past few days.

Honestly, it was just a tiny part of the podcast, but it’s the part that has stuck with me for days and is not likely to let me go until I unpack it in my life. Ever had something like that? Just seems to latch on and not let go?

Not going to lie, most things in life are doing that to me right now. Cheers to the season of deep thinking and God using simple statements to teach me something fairly profound — or at least profound to me.

What is the “hardest” emotion? And why? Not really my first go-to answer…

Text me and I’ll give you the details of the podcast if you want to do a deep dive yourself :)

It was a conversation about joy — but not joy in the bubbly, effortless sense we usually think of.

It was about joy as the most vulnerable — aka “hardest” — human emotion.

And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.

Why Joy Feels So Scary

The idea that joy is our most vulnerable emotion sounded strange at first. But when you really think about it, it makes perfect sense.

To feel joy is to open your heart.

To open your heart is to risk loss.

The moment something becomes precious, the possibility of losing it becomes real. And because humans are wired for survival, our brains try to protect us from that risk. We don’t let ourselves feel the joy fully, because what if it gets ripped away?

So instead of leaning in, we do something else.

“Dress-Rehearsing Tragedy”

This phrase hit me hard.

When something good happens, or when life feels almost too beautiful, our mind often jumps straight to imagining something terrible happening. It’s like we’re rehearsing pain in advance, trying to soften the blow if things don’t go the way we hope.

This is the inner script:

• “What if this doesn’t last?”
• “What if something goes wrong?”
• “What if the good thing is just setting me up for a bigger disappointment?”

It feels like protection.

It feels like “being realistic.”

But really? It keeps us from feeling joy at all.

The Safer Choice: Living Disappointed

Here’s the heartbreaking truth:

Many people choose to live quietly disappointed every day rather than risk feeling disappointment once.

They numb excitement.

They keep dreams small.

They don’t hope for too much.

They don’t get too happy.

Because if they never let themselves rise, they can’t fall.

This is how we self-protect — but it’s also how we rob ourselves of the full experience of being alive.

Desire Takes Courage

One example that really stuck with me is verbalizing to someone — or “owning up to” — the fact that “I really want this.”

You can feel the vulnerability in the statement. You are exposing the deepest part of yourself — desire — knowing full well that the answer might be “no.” Or disappointment could meet you on the back side.

And if you have verbalized that to someone you trust… someone else will know it mattered. Tough moment, huh? Easier to keep that to yourself?

That’s vulnerability.

Foreboding Joy: When the Other Shoe Is Always Waiting to Drop

There’s a name for this phenomenon: foreboding joy.

It’s that uneasy feeling that creeps in when life feels good. The fear that something painful is waiting around the corner. The belief that joy can’t be trusted.

Foreboding joy whispers:

• “Don’t celebrate yet.”
• “Don’t get too happy.”
• “Don’t let your guard down.”

It steals the sweetness out of the moment we’re actually living.

The Antidote: Gratitude

Here was the most powerful (and simple) insight:

The people who truly lean into joy — the ones who allow themselves to feel it fully — are the ones who use that moment of vulnerability as a cue for gratitude.

When the fear creeps in… when your brain starts scanning for danger… when you want to shrink back instead of lean in…

That is the exact moment to practice gratitude.

Gratitude is what stabilizes joy. It is what makes joy safe enough to feel.

It pulls you out of imagined loss and anchors you in the beauty of what is.

Sometimes the most powerful thing you can say is:

• “I am so grateful for this moment.”
• “This is a gift.”
• “Thank You.”

Leaning In

I’m beginning to see that joy is not something that just happens to us. It’s something we allow. And definitely it is not circumstantial.

And allowing it is an act of courage.

When we feel that first instinct to brace, hide, or rehearse disaster — what if we saw that as the signal to lean in?

What if we met vulnerability with gratitude instead of fear?

Maybe joy requires practice.

Maybe it requires presence.

Maybe it requires us to stop preparing for loss and start appreciating what’s right in front of us.

I’m learning — slowly, imperfectly — to choose gratitude when joy feels scary.

Because joy will always ask us to be vulnerable.

But it also invites us to live fully awake to the beauty in our lives.

To Sum It Up

“We look away from the natural realm and we fasten our gaze onto Jesus who birthed faith within us and who leads us forward into faith’s perfection. His example is this: Because his heart was focused on the JOY of knowing that you would be his, he endured the agony of the cross and conquered its humiliation, and now sits exalted at the right hand of the throne of God!”

— Hebrews 12:2

Even as I read back over this before I post it, it makes me chuckle a little… isn’t it just like the Lord to teach me something about joy in the midst of a cancer diagnosis.

But as Mark so beautifully wrote a few posts back, we are learning to lean into each moment — to each day — the fun and exciting, and also the boring. To “squeeze the life out of each one.”

So here is just one more layer.

A lesson in joy. Not sure we have mastered it, but navigating it and practicing gratitude every day.