A Storybook of Radiant Trust Beyond Circumstance
The day opened with a clarity that only follows a night of rain. The stones of the Sapphire Blue Lily Amphitheatrum glistened with dew. The air was alive with birdsong and the scent of blooming jasmine from the surrounding terraces of Eternalis College. Disciples gathered not merely to listen—but to witness. They had come to behold something more than knowledge. They came for joy.
Michael stood at the center of the amphitheater’s altar space. No pulpit, no scrolls—just the open circle and the unfiltered sky.
He smiled—not with ceremony, but with **freedom**. His joy, even before speaking, saturated the space. It radiated from within him like the warmth of a hearth on a cold morning. Alicia whispered to Mayte, “He is joy, not just happy… joy itself.”
Michael began softly, “Children of the Living Light, let us speak today of the joy that is born of faith.”
He turned and lifted his hand slowly toward the sunlight breaking through the indigo canopy above. “My life on Urantia was not free from sorrow. I knew betrayal, loneliness, ridicule, and even despair. But beneath every shadow was this bright undercurrent—a joy **untouched by circumstance**.”
Johana looked up at him, her expression a mixture of wonder and deep yearning. “How, beloved,” she asked, “can joy remain when the heart is pierced with grief?”
Michael nodded gently. “Because joy is not the absence of sorrow—it is the presence of **God**.”
He walked slowly among the students. “I trusted the Father, not only when my path was clear, but especially when it was shrouded in uncertainty. And this trust—this faith—became the foundation of **indestructible joy**. I did not wait for outer victory to rejoice. I rejoiced because I belonged to the Father.”
Marcelo, reflecting with clarity, added, “Then joy is a sign that the soul remembers its Source?”
Michael’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, my dear one. Joy is the fragrance of remembrance. It is the music of divine companionship.”
He turned to the edge of the amphitheater where a lily pond shimmered. “Faith is not only belief in divine power. It is **delight** in divine presence. It is the confidence that every trial contains a treasure, every delay a preparation, and every silence a deepening of trust.”
Neuza asked, “What do we do when joy seems hidden, when we feel dry or numb?”
Michael sat gently upon one of the marble steps and invited them to do the same.
“You must return to the wellspring. Joy is not a mood. It is a **spiritual reality**. When you lose touch with it, do not chase the emotion. Seek instead the **Person**—the Father who is your joy. Return to communion. Speak with Him. Walk with Him. Surrender your efforts to understand, and rest again in your identity as His child.”
There was a stillness. Ivan whispered, “Then joy is an evidence of **trust fulfilled**?”
Michael turned to him. “Yes—and also of trust **before** fulfillment. Joy is both the seed and the harvest.”
He rose and faced the circle with arms open wide.
> “My faith,” he said, “was not grim determination.
> It was radiant trust. It was hope adorned in laughter.
> It was peace clothed in color.
> It was knowing the Father so intimately
> That I could not help but rejoice—even in sorrow.”
“And so shall it be with you,” he continued. “You who abide in Me, who trust in the Eternal Son and the Indwelling Spirit—you shall know this joy. Not because your life is without trial, but because your soul has remembered its place at the hearth of God.”
A hush fell over the disciples. It was not silence. It was fullness. Reverberating. Alive. Joy had become **palpable**.
Then Michael, with a whisper as vast as eternity, declared:
> “The joy of the Lord is your strength.
> And this joy shall never be taken from you.”
The morning breeze stirred the lilies. The mist receded fully from the horizon. And the students knew that joy was not a passing experience.
It was a state of **divine being**.
They did not merely hear about joyful faith.
They were invited into it.
Adonai
Michael Of Nebadon
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