In my personal brokenness I didn’t need answers. I needed some peace. Yet, confusion and doubt made peace an elusive chase until Jesus showed up. I wish I could say it was a rush of warm and fuzzy feelings, but it just wasn’t. It was sitting alone in my living room chair when I realized I wasn’t alone. I was holding my bible in my lap desperately trying to open it. I knew it was the right thing to do. I was sobbing. And I didn’t not want to open that bible. Not at all. I’m not even sure I could have if I wanted. But I kept hearing this small voice whisper in my head “count it all joy…count it all joy…count it all joy.” All I could think is how I felt everything but joy. I knew the scripture. So I picked up the bible and turned to James: