Perhaps you’ve heard a Christian say something like: ​“You can’t always be happy because happiness is based on circumstance; but you can choose joy.”

The statement has truth. Happiness can be shallow and fleeting; joy has depth and resilience. But it can also paint an odd picture: an unhappy Christian whose sad soul uses willpower to be ​“joyful.”

Joy (chara) in the New Testament conveys something different. The word can be translated gladness or cheerfulness or delight. It conveys both depth and feeling. Joy bookends Jesus’ story in Matthew. At the sight of the star, the wise men ​“rejoiced with exceeding great joy.” And at the tomb, when the angel informed the women that Jesus was alive, they departed ​“with fear and great joy.” It’s fun to imagine these men and women, faces shining and hearts aflame.

Like love and peace and patience, joy is a fruit. Produce. It’s produced by another process. That means we can’t choose it directly. At least not very well or for very long. It has to be cultivated. And maybe that’s what folks actually mean when they say ​“choose joy” — to practice the things that produce the fruit of joy, like obedience, thankfulness, and yes, in the long game, even grief.

There’s also the practice of hope — meditating on future joy that awaits us on the other side of suffering. This isn’t powdered-sugar fantasy that melts away and leaves us empty. It’s the protein of promise that can sustain us today.

Sometimes I ponder Jesus in his agony, flesh suspended on metal, gasping for breath, and I wonder: What was the substance of that ​“joy set before him?” It must have been so rich, so extravagant, so beautiful to have sustained him on the cross, and beyond that for him to have allowed evil to exist in the first place.

On difficult days, the joy set before Jesus is the one candle that keeps life from going pitch black. He knew something that enabled him to endure. Even if I can’t quite access the joy he had in mind, I can hold on to him holding on to joy.

And on good days, I like to imagine Jesus, the one who turned water into wine to honor his mother and keep a party going, smiling and celebrating with me.

Richard Foster and Marti Ensign joined Carolyn Arends on a webinar this past Tuesday called Joy Strength. They gave several surprising and down-to-earth ways to cultivate joy. For me, just watching them interact with one another was in itself an exercise of joy. (You can watch the replay free here.)