Finding Happy

Have you ever assumed God wants you to be happy? Or miserable? I found myself doing that just this week.

I'm at a place right now where I'm generally content with my life. Oh, all is not perfect - it never is - but by and large, things are good. I have a job that I love. School is about to start again in a few weeks, and I'm filled with the nervous anticipation familiar to all teachers in September. I have friends who love me. I have a good home. I love my church family. I love my horse and my dog, and my car is running smoothly. Money is tight, but God is providing.

In the midst of all that, a ribbon of fear wound its way through my mind. It's all going to come crashing down, you know. Don't get too comfortable. God's going to snatch it all away. Don't enjoy it too much, or God will be sure to take it from you. And there's just enough of an element of truth in that thought that I begin to entertain it. It could come crashing down. There are no guarantees in life. Jobs get lost. Loved ones die. Pets pass on. Cars break down, and rust destroys and thieves break in and steal. It is good to be reminded occasionally about the vanity of life. Soap bubbles, the Teacher of Ecclesiastes says of life. Beautiful, shimmery, dancing, floating soap bubbles that are here one second and pop the next.

But that's not really what I was doing. In those fearful moments, I wasn't reflecting on the fleeting nature of life and regrounding myself in the unchanging heart of God. Rather, I was casting aspersion on the heart of God. I was allowing myself to think that God is a churlish beast who enjoys kicking his children just to see them squirm. I was thinking that God is a harsh Father, who, if his children are not crying, gives them something to cry about, and if they dare to laugh, he'll slap the laugh off their lips right quick.

I'm not the only one who thinks stuff like this. I hear strains of the same tune often. "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans/hopes/dreams." "If you have two choices before you, the one God wants you to do is probably the one you don't want to do." "Tell God you don't want to do such-and-such or go here-or-there, and you can be guaranteed that's what he's going to make you do or tell you where to go." We even joke somethings, when we go to a warm place in the winter, that "someone has to suffer for the Lord in the sunshine". We seem to have this idea that following Christ should involve the maximum amount of suffering and misery, and that any spark of joy or delight or, dare I say it, happiness, means we're not doing things quite right, and we must be "out of the will of God".

Now, I am the first to admit that our happiness is not God's primary agenda for our lives. I am the first to state that there are loads of times when God asks us to do hard things and walk through hard trials, things that are uncomfortable or downright painful, things that cause more tears than laughter, because those things are important to make us more like his Son. But does that mean that everything must be painful and difficult, and that if we find joy and delight in something, it's probably not what God wants for us? God's primary agenda for our lives is not our happiness, and sometimes obedience means putting my personal desires aside. I get that. I don't get to divorce my spouse, or have an affair, or engage in sexual activity outside of marriage, or be jealous of that other person, or gossip, or cheat on my tax return, or cuss at the driver who cuts me off in traffic just because those things might make me feel good or make me happy. But does that mean that being obedient involves always doing the thing that makes me most miserable and unhappy? If Plan A and Plan B are both God-honouring, obedient choices, and I would really enjoy Plan A but would not enjoy Plan B, am I really to assume that God must want me to do Plan B, based solely on the fact that it's the thing I don't enjoy? Is God really that much of a kill-joy and a miser?

I don't think so. I think I'm crazy to let the thought cross my mind. I think that God delights in my delight. I think he created me with my wishes, my hopes, my dreams, and my desires. No, outright disobedience is not ok. I get that. But obedience is not always painful. There is, as Michael Card once said, "joy in the journey", and I just don't believe that joy is some over-spiritualized pretension that all is well even I'm crying my eyes out. Joy is not grit-your-teeth-and-bear-it. It's being able to see glimpses of good even when I'm gritting my teeth and bearing it. Joy is not seeking out the darkest, stormiest skies I can find, and camping out under them on purpose because I think that's what God must want, and then pretending I'm happy about it. Yes, sometimes we get stormy skies. Then joy is being able to find a single star in that dark sky, and being able to revel in the beauty of that star, because it is beautiful. When the night is so cloudy I can't find that star, joy is found in knowing I believe the stars are there, even when I can't see them. But it's also being able to appreciate the fact that sometimes God delights to give me a cloudless night sky, set ablaze with so many stars I feel myself falling into the vastness of the universe and straight into the arms of God. It's being able to appreciate and thank him for a job I love, a home I love, family and friends I love, a dog I love, a horse I love, for as long as he gives them to me to love,without fearing he will snatch them away without any reason other than that I love them. Joy is being able to appreciate that sometimes God puts me in a place that delights me as much as it delights him, and to take full delight in that delightful situation.

Does God want me to be happy? I think in our fear of the disobedience that so often follows an affirmative answer to that question, we have decided that not only does God not care about us being happy, he would actually prefer that we are permanently unhappy. Oh, but we have joy. To which I say, hogwash. I have met joyful people. They are happy. They are able to find joy even in hardship. They are able to hold happiness and sadness in balance, neither letting the happiness cause them to fear or deny the sadness, nor letting the sadness strip away their happiness. They know you can laugh and cry at the same time. They know that sometimes God asks us to do hard things, but sometimes the things God calls us to do are just plain fun. Some seasons are tearful; joyful people do not deliberately seek those seasons out or wallow in them, but they live in them with grace. Some seasons are full of laughter; joyful people do not make it their goal to pursue or stay in those seasons, but they enjoy such seasons to the full.

God is no miser. Scripture tells me he delights in giving me good gifts. Scripture tells me that if I ask for bread, he won't give me a stone. If I ask for a fish, he won't hand me a snake. My Father is lavish, extravagant, giving freely, loving wildly.

I plan on enjoying that.

And if the opportunity comes up to go somewhere sunny in the dead of winter, I promise to laugh with the Lord and soak up the sunshine.