Joy Isn’t Optional—It’s Oxygen
Tuesday, July 8, 2025
Let Your Soul Exhale (and Maybe Giggle)
Okay, pause.
Yep—right here.
Drop your shoulders. Wiggle your toes. Stick your tongue out if you need to. (No one’s watching… except maybe the Holy Spirit, and I promise He’s not mad—He’s delighted.)
Now take a deep, silly breath in. Fill your belly.
Now exhale like you’re blowing bubbles on a summer porch.
Feels different already, doesn’t it?
Let me ask you something: when did life start feeling like a spreadsheet instead of an adventure? When did faith become a checklist instead of childlike curiosity?
Jesus looked at a crowd of serious, striving adults and said something radical:
"Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)
And I don’t think He said it with a scowl—I think He said it with a sparkle in His eye. I imagine Him pointing at the kids playing nearby, belly-laughing with sticky hands and wild joy, and saying, “That. That’s the Kingdom.”
But if you’re like most of us, somewhere along the way you traded in your jump rope for a calendar. You replaced puddle jumping with productivity. You stopped spinning in circles just because it made you laugh, and started managing your life like a project that God was constantly grading.
And here you are—tired, tense, and wondering where the wonder went.
Let me tell you the truth, sister-friend: joy isn’t a break from the spiritual journey. Joy is the journey. It’s not what you earn after you’ve “been good.” It’s not the treat you get when the hard work is over. Joy is what keeps your soul hydrated. It’s what keeps your mind soft and your spirit awake. It’s what keeps you from turning into a machine in a world that glorifies burnout.
And here’s a holy secret: Jesus knew joy was power. That’s why He told us to come like children—not to get more serious, but to get more silly. Not to carry more weight, but to let go and trust.
So what if today, instead of overthinking, you danced in the kitchen?
What if you colored outside the lines on purpose?
What if you turned on a song that makes you spin, and you just… let yourself go?
What if play wasn’t a distraction from purpose—but the portal into it?
Let your soul exhale, sweet one. Let it giggle. Let it spin. Let it skip.
You don’t need permission—Jesus already gave it. The Kingdom is found in the wild wonder of childlike hearts. And today? You’re invited to jump back in.
Not when the work is done.
Not when you’ve “earned” it.
Now.
Let’s really lean into Matthew 18:3:
“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
Now read that again. Slowly. Let the words dance around your grown-up logic. Jesus didn’t say unless you pray harder, hustle longer, or prove yourself more spiritually worthy. He said, unless you become like children.
Let’s pause there.
When was the last time you saw a child stressed out because their snack time wasn’t productive enough? Or worried they weren’t worshiping "right" while building a block tower?
Exactly. Children don’t strive to be—they just are.
They wake up curious. They chase butterflies. They belly laugh over knock-knock jokes. They cry freely and bounce back quickly. They play without guilt. They trust without micromanaging every outcome. And somewhere between preschool nap mats and career ladders, we were taught to trade that freedom for fear, that wonder for worry.
But Jesus points right to those chubby-cheeked, loud-laughing, juice-box-sipping humans and says: "Be like them."
Why? Because childlikeness isn’t immaturity—it’s spiritual wisdom. It’s the very posture of freedom.
It’s the decision to come into the Kingdom light on your feet and light in your spirit. It's the holy choice to skip instead of strive. To trust instead of overthink. To play instead of perform.
When you lose your capacity for joy, you don’t just lose your fun—you lose access to the Kingdom mindset.
You lose your posture of receiving. You lose the ease of trusting. And let me tell you, ease is not the enemy of anointing. It's often the evidence of it.
Jesus didn’t say, “Once you get more serious and polished, then you’ll really get this whole faith thing.”
He said, “Unless you become like children, you’ll miss it entirely.”
So if you've been waiting to get “serious” before you let yourself lighten up—what if that mindset is the very thing blocking you from the freedom you crave?
Let me say it plainly, as your coach, sister, and co-laborer in joy:
Reclaiming your childlike joy is not a detour from your spiritual growth.
It’s the fast track into healing.
It’s the doorway into clarity.
It’s your permission slip back to presence.
Joy Isn’t a Distraction—It’s Brain Food (And Your Nervous System’s Favorite Snack)
Let’s take a fun little field trip—straight into your brain.
Imagine your mind like a beautifully designed city. Your prefrontal cortex? That’s the executive suite. It’s where your most important decisions get made, where you weigh options, organize thoughts, and regulate your emotions. It’s the place in your brain that says, “Let’s breathe before we react,” and “Maybe don’t send that text.”
Now here’s the wild part: you’d think that part of the brain would light up when you’re doing a deep Bible study or making a big life decision (and it does!)—but guess what else sets it off like fireworks? Play. Joy. Laughter. Whimsy.
When you laugh until your sides hurt, when you dance across your living room in your mismatched socks, when you make up songs while folding laundry, or even when you doodle in the margins of your planner—your brain is actually leveling up.
Let me break it down:
Cortisol—your body’s stress alarm—drops. That tight-chested, can’t-catch-your-breath, always-on-edge feeling? Joy lowers it. When you play, your body sends the signal: “We’re safe here. You can come out of survival mode now.”
Serotonin rises. That’s your “I’m okay” chemical. It lifts your mood and brings stability to your emotions. You know that light feeling after a belly laugh? That’s serotonin doing a happy dance.
Dopamine floods your brain. This is the reward and motivation chemical. It tells your brain, “This feels good—let’s do more of this!” So whether it’s painting something just for fun or putting on your favorite playlist, those moments of joy actually spark motivation and creativity.
Your vagus nerve gets activated. Think of this like the gentle mother of your nervous system. When you laugh, hum, sing, or breathe deeply through play, this nerve calms your heart rate, improves digestion, and regulates your mood. Your body literally whispers, “All is well.”
Play isn’t a time-waster. It’s nervous system regulation. It’s soul rehab. It’s heaven’s medicine in motion.
And here’s the beautiful overlap: Science isn’t trying to steal God’s glory—it’s finally catching up to what He already built into your design.
God didn’t just suggest joy—He encoded it into your very biology. He made your brain crave laughter, your body respond to music, and your heart come alive in beauty. He wired you to heal through delight.
So the next time you catch yourself saying, “I don’t have time to play,” I want you to pause and remember:
You don’t have time not to.
Because joy isn’t just fun—it’s formation.
It’s not silly—it’s strategic.
It’s not immaturity—it’s intelligent, embodied holiness.
So go ahead and turn the kitchen into a stage. Spin until you’re dizzy. Jump rope. Giggle with your kids. Blow bubbles. Try something that makes you feel a little ridiculous—and a lot free.
Not because you’ve earned it.
But because your brain—and your spirit—are begging for it.
When Did You Stop Playing?
Let’s go there for a moment. Gently, honestly.
When did play start feeling like a luxury instead of a language your soul speaks fluently?
Like—when did you stop spinning in circles just to see how dizzy you could get before falling over in the grass, breathless with laughter?
When did coloring outside the lines become something to avoid instead of something to celebrate?
When did “just because” become irresponsible?
And here’s a big one—when did you start waiting for the world to approve your joy?
Can you remember the last time you played without an audience? Without needing to post it? Without trying to be good at it?
Just… played. Loudly. Sloppily. Freely.
Maybe you used to roller-skate in circles, narrating your own adventure. Maybe you journaled in glitter pens, made up songs in the shower, or hosted talent shows in your bedroom mirror with stuffed animals as the cheering crowd. Maybe you built forts, choreographed dance routines, or turned puddles into oceans you had to leap across with superhero powers.
And then—life happened.
Someone told you to grow up.
So you tried. You tucked away the sparkle. You dialed down the wonder. You traded play for productivity and called it growth.
But the Kingdom of God isn’t built on quieting down the colorful parts of you. It’s not a place where joy gets sidelined for seriousness. It’s not about shrinking to fit into someone else’s mold of what “spiritual maturity” should look like.
The Kingdom? It’s built on childlike expansion.
On curiosity.
On creativity.
On unapologetic delight.
Jesus didn’t say, “Once you’ve proven yourself, then you’ll be ready.”
He said, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven.”
That wasn’t about regressing. It was about remembering.
Because when we play—when we make space for awe, lightness, and laughter—we re-enter the posture of trust. We soften. We release the grind. We open back up to joy as a spiritual practice, not a side note.
Here’s the truth: every time you choose pressure over presence, or guilt over giggles, you reinforce the lie that God only meets you in your seriousness.
But God isn’t allergic to your fun. God delights in your delight.
Holiness isn’t heaviness. Joy isn’t immaturity. Play isn’t childish—it’s sacred.
Your wholeness doesn’t just allow for joy—it requires it. Not as a break from your faith, but as one of the boldest fruits of it.
You weren’t just created to check boxes, hustle hard, and whisper your worship.
You were created to be alive. To smile without reason. To laugh without explanation. To rest in joy like it’s your birthright—because it is.
So maybe the real question isn’t “When did you stop playing?”
Maybe the better question is: What might come alive in you again if you started?
Go on—color outside the lines today.
The Kingdom is waiting.
Reclaiming Permission to Be Light Again
Okay, let’s pause and lean in—coach to soul.
Take a deep breath. Loosen your grip on whatever task or tension you’ve been clinging to. I’m about to ask a few heart-level questions—not to pressure you, but to free you.
What if the heaviness you’ve been dragging around… isn’t a sign that you’re broken—but that you’re burnt out on pretending?
What if that resistance to “just keep pushing” isn’t laziness at all—but the sound of your soul whispering, “I miss wonder”?
You don’t need more willpower. You’re not behind. You’re not failing.
You’re likely just… parched.
And you know what your spirit is thirsty for? Not more discipline.
Not another to-do list.
But delight.
Say this with me—yes, right now, out loud (I’ll wait):
“I’m not lazy. I’m likely overextended. I don’t need to earn joy—I just need to remember it.”
So here’s your gentle, holy assignment:
Make your Play & Joy List.
Ten things. Big things. Tiny things. Silly things. Soulful things.
Anything that makes you laugh from your belly, breathe a little deeper, or feel like you’ve temporarily time-traveled back to your most vibrant, unfiltered self.
Need ideas? I’ve got you,
Blow bubbles out the window like your heart’s floating with them.
Journal in colored pens. Write with glitter ink. Use stickers if it makes you smile.
Bake something and don’t clean as you go (yes, let the kitchen get messy).
Wear your most ridiculous pair of socks with pride. Bonus points if they don’t match.
Watch a cartoon you loved as a kid and giggle like it’s still the funniest thing ever.
Dance in the mirror with absolutely zero choreography—just joy.
Attempt a cartwheel in your yard or living room (with grace, of course).
Play dress-up. Make a playlist for your inner child. Walk like you own the sidewalk.
The list doesn’t have to impress anyone. It just has to wake you up inside.
Now pick one. Just one.
And here’s the coaching kicker: do it today.
Not when you finish the project.
Not when you finally get enough sleep.
Not when you’ve “earned” a break.
Today.
Because play is not a pause from purpose.
It’s the breath that keeps purpose alive.
Practice Delight Like It’s Holy
Let’s make it sacred. Let’s make it practical. Let’s make it stick.
Today, you’re going to schedule your joy. Yup—put it on the calendar like a sacred appointment. Right next to your meetings, errands, workouts, or devotionals.
Open your planner. Tap your phone. Set a reminder. And then, set the mood.
Light a candle. Put on the playlist that makes your body sway without permission. Pull out the paints or sidewalk chalk or whatever lets your hands create without rules.
Or just turn the music up, dance until your socks slide off, and laugh until your sides hurt. Let your body remember what lightness feels like—not as a memory, but as your ministry.
And while you move—breathe this truth in:
Inhale: “I receive joy…”
Exhale: “…as my strength.”
Do it again. And again. Until your nervous system stops bracing for disappointment.
Until your mind stops asking for permission.
Until your soul says, “Ahhh. We’re safe here.”
Joy isn’t the cherry on top. It’s the soil your faith needs to grow.
It’s not fluff. It’s formation. It’s not a treat. It’s truth.
So today, friend—water your soul with giggles and glitter, with breath and movement, with silliness and stillness.
Let God meet you in the skip, the song, the paintbrush, the dance.
Let joy be your prayer.
Let freedom be your answer.
Let play be the sermon your spirit didn’t know it needed.
Because Jesus didn’t just come to make you holy.
He came to make you whole.
Faith-Based Affirmations
I don’t need to earn joy—it’s already mine in Christ.
My nervous system is secure, my spirit is open, and my joy is sacred.
I choose play, not as a distraction, but as a form of divine alignment.
Reflection Questions
What beliefs have shaped my relationship with joy and play?
When was the last time I felt truly alive, unstructured, and playful—and what was I doing?
What would shift in my leadership or personal life if I made joy part of my strategy, not a reward?
Prayer Targets
God, transform every mindset in me that views joy as a luxury rather than a necessity.
Holy Spirit, revive the playful and creative aspects of me that have become dormant.
Jesus, help me recognize joy not as a sideline, but as a signpost to Your presence.
Song of the Day
Let this song be your soundtrack for release today. Play it while you dance around, walk, or take that sacred 10-minute joy break. Let the words remind your heart that your freedom is in your joy—and that God isn’t waiting for you to calm down to meet you. He’s in the song. He’s in the spin. He’s in the smile.
Let’s connect. Not just in the comments, not just with a double tap. I want to know what’s been on your heart. Let’s talk, dream out loud, pray if you need it, laugh if you feel like it, just real space for real conversation.
Listen to Meditation
Become a Dream Sponsor Here