When Joy Feels Too Big: A Wonderfully Wired Reflection on Answered Prayer and Fear

Sep 4

Today, a prayer I’ve whispered for years—through tears, through silence, through seasons when I wasn’t even sure I had the strength to hope—was answered.

And not just answered in some small, partial way. God moved. Clearly. Tenderly. Powerfully.

I should be dancing, right?
I should be shouting from the rooftops, “Look what the Lord has done!”
And I was.
For a moment.

Then something I didn’t expect crept in: fear.

Fear after joy. It’s happened before. But this time, I wanted to understand why.

For those of us who live with CPTSD (complex trauma) and AuDHD (the combined traits of autism and ADHD), emotions don’t always show up in neat categories.

When you’ve spent decades bracing for impact, joy can feel like a threat.
When your body is wired to scan for danger, relief feels suspicious.
When your brain processes emotion like an amplifier with the dial stuck on high, joy floods the system—and the system panics.

I’ve been afraid of joy for a long time.

Not because I don’t believe God is good. I do.
Not because I’m ungrateful. I’m not.
But because somewhere along the way, I learned that when I let myself feel joy, something bad usually followed.

That’s what trauma teaches you: brace yourself. Don’t relax. Don’t celebrate too hard. Because joy might be a setup for more pain.

But what if that’s not truth? What if that’s just survival logic dressed up in fear?

The Bible is honest about how the enemy works.
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” —John 10:10

Yes, the enemy would love to steal my joy right after an answered prayer. But he doesn’t get the final say.

And not every fear is “the devil.”
Some of it is my nervous system firing off old warning signs from battles I’m no longer fighting.
Some of it is being wonderfully wired in a world that doesn’t always understand intensity or sensitivity or the sacred swirl of emotions I carry.

Here’s what I’m learning to do when joy feels too big:

I pause. I name what I’m feeling: This is joy. This is fear. Lord, help me hold both with You.
I ground my body: feet on the floor, hand on my heart, a deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth.
I speak Scripture aloud:
- “When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.” (Psalm 94:19)
- “You will fill me with joy in your presence.” (Psalm 16:11)
- “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” (Nehemiah 8:10)

I don’t push the fear away. I just don’t let it take the lead.

Maybe you’ve been there too.
Maybe your answered prayer feels like a sunrise you’re afraid to look at too long.
Maybe joy stirs something ancient in you—grief, dread, anticipation of loss.

Let me say this to both of us:

Joy is not a trap. It is a taste of heaven.

God doesn’t give it only to snatch it back.
He rejoices over us with singing. (Zeph. 3:17)
He delights in doing good to us. (Jer. 32:41)
He fills our mouths with laughter. (Job 8:21)

And when our trauma-trained minds tremble in the face of goodness, He’s patient.
He doesn’t shame us for hesitating.
He invites us to step into joy little by little, hand in His.

So today, I’m choosing to stay in the joy.
Even if it trembles.
Even if it floods.
Even if my nervous system doesn’t know what to do with it yet.

Because God answered a prayer I thought might never break through.
And even if it takes a lifetime to feel safe in joy,
I believe He’s teaching me how to receive it.

Slowly. Gently. Faithfully.

And that’s a prayer being answered too.