I realized after I had placed the strap of a heavy bag on my shoulder that I was sunburnt. The sunburn itself probably occurred after sitting outside at our son’s soccer game where I forgot to use sunscreen. That feeling of having something dig into that too-tender, reddened skin brought back a memory from years ago:   We had taken our very young children to the beach. Our older son was just walking and our girls were preschool-aged. We had spent the day digging in the sand, and now it was time to head back to our condo and have lunch. The only way to get to our home-away-from-home was by trudging up a steep set of weather-worn, rickety, wooden stairs. My husband and I split up the many bags which held an assortment of sand toys, beach towels, and snacks. He hoisted our son on his hip, I held the hand of each of our girls, and we began the (seemingly mile-long) ascent, putting one foot in front of the other while simultaneously ignoring our sunburnt shoulders and sand-covered flip-flops. Just…keep…going…   This is also the memory that pops into my mind when I think of the word perseverance . Gritting my teeth and just getting done what needs to be done. No chitchat. No pleasantries. It’s grin and bear it , but without the grinning.   And then, just like God so often does with His word, he convicts me of my flawed thinking. I read a few verses from the Book of James, and I realize I’m only halfway doing this. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds…” Pure joy? Are you kidding me? You want me to regard this bad situation as a big old party? If James had said this stuff while standing beside your hospital bed or at the funeral of a loved one, he might have received a dirty look or two. But James wasn’t finished with his sentence. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.”   So you’re saying I should want the perseverance? Like that’s my main target? James, James, James. That sounds like a lot of pain. Isn’t there an easier way? But James lets me know he’s not done with this whole trials + perseverance = pure joy. Listen to what he says next: “Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” A life without trials isn’t complete. And since the trials are going to come whether my attitude is good or bad, I might as well try this God’s way. Maybe the pure joy is part of the maturity and the wholeness. It’s cyclical. But back to my first question, James. I know I should consider it pure joy when I face trials. And I know I should want to have my faith tested. And I know I should want to be a mature Christ-follower. But all of that sounds really, really hard.   In my imaginary conversation with James, he steps aside at this point and his brother, Jesus, walks towards me. Jesus looks me in the eye and I instantly know that I don’t have to do this very hard thing—facing pain with a holy attitude—all by myself. Jesus gently reminds me, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”