When Life Shatters: Choosing Joy Is an Act of Defiance
By Erik Kingsley · · Imagine Church, Pembroke Pines, FL
There's a broken vase sitting somewhere in your memory. Maybe it's a marriage that ended. A job that disappeared. A dream that didn't survive the last few years. A person you loved who is gone too soon.
The vase is on the floor. The pieces are everywhere. And the question — the real question — is whether you believe anything good can come from what's left.
That's where Sunday's message started. Not with a tidy three-point outline, but with a story about a vase that actually shattered at a barbecue the night before, and a pastor who looked at the pieces and said: this is what I want to talk about.
The Worst Year of His Life
Pastor Erik didn't ease into it. He told the room exactly what 2020 cost him.
His stepmother got cancer. Five days later, she was gone. In the middle of a pandemic, he lost a six-figure job. And then, after seventeen years, his marriage ended.
All in one year.
He said what most people in that situation would think but never say out loud: I thought I was done. I thought God would never use me again.
That kind of honesty from a pulpit doesn't happen often. And it matters — because if you've been carrying something similar, the last thing you need is a pastor performing spiritual success from a stage. You need someone who has actually been in the rubble and found a way to keep walking.
Your Emotions Are Not the Final Word
Here's the theological spine of the whole message, delivered without apology:
"Your emotions lie. Your circumstances are not truth. God's word is truth. What he says stands. What he says about you is the truth."
That's not dismissing pain. It's not toxic positivity dressed up in Bible verses. It's a declaration that there are two competing truth claims fighting for your attention every single day — and you get to choose which one you build your life on.
Psalm 16:11 puts it plainly:
"In his presence is the fullness of joy."
Not partial joy. Not joy when circumstances improve. Fullness. The kind that doesn't depend on what's happening around you.
Goodness and Mercy Are Hunting You Down
One of the most memorable moments of the message came from a closer look at Psalm 23 — a passage most people have heard so many times it barely registers anymore.
The familiar line is: "Goodness and mercy shall follow me." But in the original Hebrew, that word translated as "follow" carries the weight of pursuit. Active, aggressive, relentless pursuit — the same word used to describe hunting down an enemy.
"Goodness and mercy are like a bad stalker. They are chasing after you."
That reframe changes everything. God is not sitting at a distance, waiting for you to get your act together before He shows up. He is moving toward you. His goodness is not passive. His mercy is not on standby. They are in motion, and they are headed in your direction — whether you feel it or not.
Joy Is a Choice, Not a Feeling
This is where the message got practical — and honest about how hard it actually is.
There's a neurologist who conducted 83,000 brain scans over twenty-three years. His headline finding: the brain can change. Thought patterns are not permanent. What you consistently focus on reshapes the way your mind works.
Romans 12 has been saying this for two thousand years:
"Transform your mind with the word."
Choosing joy is not pretending the vase isn't broken. It's deciding that the broken vase is not the last chapter. It's looking at the shattered pieces and saying, out loud, to yourself and to God: that is not who I am.
Paul wrote Philippians — a letter saturated with joy — from a prison cell. He wasn't writing theory. He was writing from inside the worst version of his circumstances, and he chose to send joy anyway. That letter is still arriving in inboxes two millennia later.
Nothing You've Done Disqualifies You
The emotional peak of the message was a rapid-fire declaration that landed like something people needed to hear said out loud:
"God's not through with you. God's not done with you. He can heal you. He could change you. He could transform you. He is still gonna use you. There's nothing you've done that disqualifies you."
And then, just as directly:
"No sin. No mistake. No shattered glass. No broken relationship. No lost job is gonna define you, is gonna stop you."
The gospel is not good news for people who have it together. It never was. John 3:16 doesn't have a prerequisite. Romans 10 doesn't say anyone who has earned it — it says anyone who calls. Isaiah 43 doesn't say I want to do a new thing once you've cleaned up the old thing. It says: behold. Look. Right now. Something new.
We Already Know How the Story Ends
There's a simple image that stuck from Sunday: a math textbook with the answers printed in the back.
You're going to face problems you can't solve. Situations that don't make sense. Seasons that feel like they're winning. But if you've read the end of the book, you already know the outcome.
"I read at the end of the book — we win."
Revelation says it dozens of times. God is still on the throne. He has not lost track of you. He has not forgotten what He started in you. Ephesians 3:20 calls it exceedingly, abundantly above all that we could dare ask or think — and that promise is not reserved for people who never broke anything.
What You Can Do With This Right Now
A few things worth carrying into the week:
- Name the lie. What emotion or circumstance have you been treating as the final word on your life? Name it. Then find what God's word actually says about that specific thing.
- Make the choice out loud. Joy is not a feeling that arrives. It's a decision you announce — to yourself, to God, sometimes to the room. Say it: I choose joy today.
- Stay in the word. The brain rewires around what it consistently absorbs. What you read, confess, and meditate on is not just spiritual discipline — it is literally reshaping how you think.
- Keep walking. The valley of the shadow of death in Psalm 23 is a place you walk through, not a place you set up camp. Keep moving. God's goodness is behind you and ahead of you.
A New Beginning Is Still on the Table
The altar call Sunday was for anyone who has felt stuck — not just people who have never believed, but people whose dreams died, whose relationships ended, whose faith went quiet somewhere along the way.
The offer is still open. It doesn't expire between Sundays.
God healed Pastor Erik from the worst year of his life and put him back in a room full of people, preaching that the same thing is possible for anyone willing to make the choice. That's not a sales pitch. That's a testimony.
Life is tough. But God is tougher.
If Sunday's message is something you needed to hear, the full sermon is available on the podcast and on YouTube. And if you've never been to Imagine Church, doors open at 9:30 AM every Sunday. There is a seat for you.