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Nehemiah said, “Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is holy to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” - Nehemiah 8:10
Some days, I don’t feel very strong. The profound weight of my life comes unexpectedly, and I feel like a grizzly bear is sitting on my back. I don’t have the strength to move it and as I inevitably push, I only get weaker.
This gets especially difficult when I have allowed my connection with God to deteriorate. I grow complacent in taking the time to pray. I hit autopilot at church in my interactions with our people. In short, I drift spiritually.
I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. Many of you have shared with me the burdens of staying strong. When life gets hard, the temptation is to retreat.
That brings us to the famous verse from Nehemiah. Within it are those cheeky words: “The joy of the Lord is my strength.” What might that even mean? God’s happy so I am strong? Being joyful and strong are the same thing in God’s eyes?
The scene behind the phrase is loud, crowded, emotional, and very human. The people of God have come home from exile. They are trying to rebuild not just walls, but a whole way of life with God at the center again. In Nehemiah 8, they gather in a public square and ask Ezra to bring out the Book of the Law of Moses. As he reads, something deep happens in them. They realize how far they’ve wandered. They see their sin clearly. They begin to weep.
Into that moment of honest, painful conviction, the leaders say something surprising: “Do not mourn or weep… Go your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready… And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” The people are told to move from crying to celebration, from despair to joy, from self-focus to sharing with those in need. This is not a call to ignore sin, or pretend the past doesn’t matter. It is a call to let God’s joy, not their guilt, have the final word.
So what does it mean for you that “the joy of the Lord is my strength”?
First, it means your strength does not begin with your feelings. The people in Nehemiah 8 did not feel strong. They felt exposed. They felt small. They felt like failures. If your strength depended on feeling positive, confident, energized, or spiritually impressive, you would be in trouble most days. The strength this verse talks about is not a personality trait. It’s not natural optimism. It’s not “just choose joy” as a slogan taped to a mug.
The joy of the Lord is something deeper and more stable. It is God’s joy: His delight in being your God, His gladness in showing mercy, His pleasure in forgiving and restoring His people. God is not rolling His eyes at you, reluctantly letting you back into the room. He rejoices to save. He takes joy in calling you His child. The strength in this verse flows from knowing that God’s face toward you in Christ is not a frown, but a welcoming, delighted smile.
Second, this joy becomes your refuge. Picture a strong fortress or a storm shelter. Outside, the wind howls and the debris flies. Inside, you are not stronger in yourself; you are simply safe because of where you are. That is what it’s like to rest in the joy of the Lord. Life can still be chaotic. Your emotions can still swing. You still have regrets and weaknesses. But you have a place to stand that does not move: God’s unchanging joy in loving you and keeping His promises.
When shame starts to spiral—“How could I do that again? I’ll never change. God must be tired of me”—Nehemiah 8 speaks into that spiral. Yes, take sin seriously. Yes, repent honestly. But do not stay stuck in mourning. Do not camp out in self-condemnation. The Bible invites you to move through conviction into celebration—not because your record is clean, but because Christ’s record covers you. You can say, “I have blown it, but God’s joy in saving sinners is my strength. His grace is bigger than my failure.”
Third, the joy of the Lord sends you outward. Notice that the people in Nehemiah 8 are told not just to feast, but to “send portions to anyone who has nothing ready.” Joy in God never stops with you. It overflows. When you remember that God delights in you, it becomes much easier to loosen your grip on your stuff, your time, and your comfort. Strong joy is generous joy. It looks around the room (or the church, or the neighborhood) and says, “Who can I include? Who can I bless?”
In your own life, this might look like:
- Choosing to worship when you feel flat, simply because God is worthy and His joy is real even when yours feels dim.
- Preaching the gospel to yourself after you fail: “God knew this about me and still chose to save me. His joy in Christ’s finished work is my strength right now.”
- Celebrating small evidences of grace instead of obsessing over all that is still broken.
- Looking for someone who is struggling, alone, or “has nothing ready,” and quietly sharing what you have—money, a meal, a listening ear, a ride, a text of encouragement.
Fourth, this joy is not fragile. Circumstances can hit hard. Prayers can feel unanswered. Grief and anxiety are real. The call to “the joy of the Lord is my strength” is not a command to fake a smile or deny pain. It is an invitation, right in the middle of that pain, to anchor yourself in something outside you: the steady, happy heart of God toward His people in Jesus.
On the days when you feel like the Israelites—seeing your sin more clearly than your Savior—hear the same word they heard: “Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” Let conviction do its good work, but then let joy have the last word. God’s joy in rescuing, forgiving, and rebuilding broken people is stronger than your past, stronger than your weakness, and strong enough to carry you through whatever this day holds.