Psalm 100 lifts our eyes to a God who is not cold or distant, but so good that He actually commands us to come near with delight. Verse 2 calls us to “serve the LORD with gladness” and to approach Him, not dragging our feet, but bringing songs of joy. Serving God is not meant to be a grim duty or a bare-minimum religious chore; it is meant to be the natural overflow of a heart that has seen His mercy and can’t help but respond with joy.

Joy Is a Command, Not a Personality Trait

Psalm 100:2 says, “Serve the LORD with gladness; come into His presence with joyful songs.” That means joy in serving God is not just for the naturally cheerful or the emotionally expressive; it is the normal Christian life. Scripture doesn’t merely permit joy—it commands it. “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4). God is not asking you to pretend life is easy; He is calling you to anchor your gladness in Him, not in your circumstances.

This kind of joy is rooted in who the Lord is and what He has done. Jesus said, “I have told you these things so that My joy may be in you and your joy may be complete” (John 15:11). His own joy becomes the source of ours. When you feel dry or burdened, you don’t have to manufacture feelings; you can come honestly to Him, confess your weariness, and ask Him to renew your joy in His salvation. Joy then becomes an act of trust—choosing to delight in a God who has already secured your eternity, even when the present is hard.

Turning Everyday Tasks into Worship

Serving the Lord with gladness is not limited to what happens inside a church building. Scripture widens the lens: “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus” (Colossians 3:17). That means folding laundry, answering emails, changing diapers, caring for aging parents, or serving in unnoticed church roles can all become joyful service when done for Him. The same task that feels heavy when done “for people” takes on new meaning when you remember you’re offering it directly to the Lord.

Paul writes, “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31). Imagine starting your day by quietly telling the Lord, “Every small thing I do today is for You.” Complaints begin to turn into prayers; interruptions become invitations from God; frustrating moments become chances to show His patience. Joy grows when you remember that nothing done for Him is wasted, and even the most ordinary moment can shine with eternal significance.

Coming Before Him with a Song

Psalm 100:2 doesn’t just call us to serve—it calls us to “come into His presence with joyful songs.” Singing is not for the musically gifted only; it is one of God’s chosen ways to draw our hearts closer to Him. “Speak to one another with psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your hearts to the Lord” (Ephesians 5:19). When you sing truth, you are preaching to your own soul, reminding yourself who God is and what He has promised.

You can “come into His presence with joyful songs” in a crowded church or alone in your kitchen. You may not always feel like singing, but you can choose to lift your voice (or even just your thoughts) in praise. Often, obedience comes first and emotion follows. As another psalm says, “You fill me with joy in Your presence; with eternal pleasures at Your right hand” (Psalm 16:11). The more you choose to come before Him—Bible open, heart engaged, song on your lips—the more you will discover that joy is not something you chase; it is something He gives when you draw near.

Lord, thank You for inviting me to serve You with gladness. Today, help me turn every task and every moment into joyful worship for Your glory.

Among those sins most exquisitely fitted to injure the soul and destroy the testimony, few can equal the sin of complaining. Yet the habit is so widespread that we hardly notice it among us. The complaining heart never lacks for occasion. It can always find reason enough to be unhappy. The object of its censure may be almost anything: the weather, the church, the difficulties of the way, other Christians or even God Himself. A complaining Christian puts himself in a position morally untenable. The simple logic of his professed discipleship is against him with an unanswerable argument. Its reasoning runs like this: First, he is a Christian because he chose to be. There are no conscripts in the army of God. He is, therefore, in the awkward position of complaining against the very conditions he brought himself into by his own free choice. Secondly, he can quit any time he desires. No Christian wears a chain on his leg. Yet he still continues on, grumbling as he goes, and for such conduct he has no defense.

A man shall be as a hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. - Isaiah 32:2

"Under His wings shalt thou flee to a refuge." Is not that a vivid, intense, picturesque, but most illuminative, way of telling us what is the very essence, and what is the urgency, and what is the worth of what we call faith? The Old Testament is full of the teaching - which is masked to ordinary readers; the same teaching as the New Testament is confessedly full of- of the necessity of faith as the one bond that binds men to God. If only our translators had wisely determined upon a uniform rendering in Old and New Testament of words that are synonymous, the reader would have seen what is often now reserved for the student, that all these sayings in the Old Testament Book about "trusting in God" run on all fours with " believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved."

But just mark, the faith which unites with God, and brings a man beneath the shadow of His wings, is nothing more nor less than the flying into the refuge that is provided for us. Does that not speak to us of the urgency of the case? Does that not speak to us eloquently of the perils which environ us? Does it not speak to us of the necessity of flight, swift, with all the powers of our will? Is the faith which is a flying into a refuge fairly described as an intellectual act of believing in a testimony? Surely it is something a great deal more than that! A man out in the plain, with the avenger of blood, hot-breathed and bloody-minded, at his back, might believe, as much as he liked, that there would be safety within the walls of the City of Refuge, but unless he took to his heels without loss of time, the spear would be in his back before he knew where he was. There are plenty of men that know all about the security of the Refuge, and believe it utterly, but never run for it; and so never get into it. Faith is the gathering up of the whole powers of the nature to fling myself into an Asylum, to cast myself into God’s arms, to take shelter beneath the shadow of His wings. And unless a man does that, and swiftly, he is exposed to every bird of prey in the sky, and to every beast of prey lurking in wait for him. A man is not saved because he believes that he is saved, but because by believing he lays hold of the salvation. It is not the flight that is impregnable, and makes those behind its strong bulwarks secure. Not my outstretched hand, but a Hand that my hand grasps, is what holds me up. The power of faith is but that it brings me into contact with God, and sets me behind the seven-fold bastions of the Almighty protection,