Joy in the Journey: Joy in the Ordinary

"And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people."

-Luke 2:8-10

The story of joy does not begin in a sanctuary. It begins in a field. With ordinary shepherds.

The shepherds were doing what they had always done - watching, waiting, tending. No announcement had hinted that this night would be any different from all the rest. Their routines were ordinary, repetitive, and largely uneventful. And yet, it was into this very ordinary moment that heaven broke open with good news of great joy. This is the quiet invitation of Luke 2: joy often enters our lives not through disruption, but in the ordinary. Not by removing us from our daily work, but by meeting us inside it.

I attended a Christmas concert this weekend that included Benjamin Britten’s choral setting This Little Babe, which captures this mystery with startling clarity and defiant hope in the ordinary. Christ enters the world not as a visible conqueror, but as a vulnerable child, unarmed, cold, and small. This text reminds us that God’s greatest work often looks unimpressive at first glance:

"This little babe so few days old

Is come to rifle Satan’s fold;

All hell doth at his presence quake

Though he himself for cold do shake;

For in this weak unarmed wise

The gates of hell he will surprise."

The text of this song is based on a poem titled "New Heaven, New War" by Robert Southwell and goes on to describe the impending war and future victory wrapped in the "feeble flesh" of this tiny infant. It is set to music that perfectly captures the spiritual warfare that the infant has come to lead. Joy, here, is not loud triumph. It is Holiness wrapped in weakness; in the weakness of an ordinary babe lies the strength to reign victorious over heaven and earth. It is certainly not your ordinary Christmas carol.

In the classroom, your work often looks ordinary too: attendance sheets, hallway duty, cleaning up after the sick child, repeated instructions, corrections, small breakthroughs that rarely get announced. It’s easy to believe that joy happens somewhere else more meaningful, more visible, more finished. But Christ is already at work in the repeated routines, the practiced patience, the care you offer when no one is watching. The small faithful acts that you carry out each day are part of a much larger story of redemption.

The poem closes by reminding us where real joy happens: by staying anchored in Christ’s nearness - in the middle of our fight, we must "stick to the tents." 

"My soul, with Christ join thou in fight;

Stick to the tents that he hath pight;

Within his crib is surest ward,

This little babe will be thy guard.

If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy,

Then flit not from this heavenly boy."

Remain with Jesus in the very places He has chosen to dwell. The crib, the shepherd's field, the classroom are where God is already at work guarding, shaping, and sustaining us. When we stay, when we resist the urge to flee discouragement or disengage, joy quietly does its work. Foil discouragement, disillusionment, cynicism, and burnout by staying close to Christ - this joy is your weapon.

Joy in the Ordinary

Where am I tempted to look for joy somewhere else instead of where God has already placed me?

What are the quiet foes I face most often (discouragement, hurry, cynicism, comparison) and how do they show up?

What would it look like to “foil my foes with joy” in one specific moment this week?

What ordinary moment this week might deserve my full attention rather than my impatience?

Prayer

Jesus, You entered the world not in strength or spectacle, but in weakness. You met shepherds in their fields and revealed glory in the middle of their ordinary work. Help me to notice where You are present in my routines, my repetitions, and my small acts of faithfulness. Teach me to trust that joy can grow in unseen places and that my daily work matters in Your unfolding story. May I remain present, attentive, and focused on staying close to You. Amen.