Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
I’m happy. 
And I don’t know what to do about it. Clap my hands? Stomp my feet? Say, “Amen!”? Scratch my belly? — all options offered by the well-known children’s song or my daughter’s Elmo storybook of the same name as the song.
Frankly, I can’t remember ever being this happy, and in a way, it scares me a little.
Weird, huh? I’m afraid to be happy. But I wonder if that’s not a little bit normal. Or maybe I just hope it’s normal.
Honestly, I’m slightly suspicious of happy people — you know, the ones who are happy AND they know it AND their faces really show it. I mean, what are they so happy about anyway? Don’t they watch the news? Don’t they read the paper? Don’t they worry about ANYTHING? Do they ever get tired or cranky or snippy? Are they some kind of superhumans?
I’ve been skeptical, at best, that a person could truly, honestly be happy living in a world of so much pain, suffering and injustice.
Even as a Christian, I’ve been taught that I don’t really NEED to be happy as long as I have the joy of the Lord. Now, I wonder if that’s just an excuse to be miserable in this life yet hopeful about my eternal existence.
Happy is fleeting, I’ve heard; joy is everlasting. Happy is based on circumstances; joy on the unchangeable truths of God’s word. Maybe that’s why I’m scared to be happy — because, in that line of thinking, something could take “happy” away.
Happy people seem to have it all together, and I assume their lives are perfect. My life is far from perfect or even ideal. I wish a whole lot of things were different, but still there’s this deep down, smiling in my heart kind of feeling that won’t go away. My life isn’t perfect, but I don’t want to change it. Things may not happen the way I want them to, but I’m OK with that. Is this really what “happy” feels like?
This happiness has been a recent revelation, but I’ve still been reluctant to share it. I’m afraid people won’t believe me, especially if they know where I’ve been the past six months. But not even that is enough to contain it.
A quick search for the word “happy” in the Bible shows me this:
Psalm 68:3: But may the righteous be glad and rejoice before God; may they be happy and joyful.
Proverbs 15:13a: A happy heart makes the face cheerful.
Ecclesiastes 7:14a: When times are good, be happy.
James 5:13b: Is anyone happy? Let them sing songs of praise.
I’m not about to construct a theology of happy, but I think after reading these verses it’s safe to say that happy is OK with God.
And what to do with happy? Sing and smile, that’s a start. I guess the song’s not far off, after all.
Happy, I’m wondering where you’ve been my whole life. You’re certainly welcome to stay.
Here’s a few of my favorite “happy” songs:
“Oh Happiness” by David Crowder Band
“Happy” by Ayiesha Woods
“Happy” by Matthew West
A radio station in our area is running a promotion called “The Ugly Side of Church.” I heard the advertisement for the first time tonight and, at first, thought, “Wow. What a great idea.” Then I realized it was like “Extreme Makeover: Church Edition.” The premise is to submit a picture of an ugly room at church and win a chance to have the room made over.
I get it. We’ve been at churches with rooms in dire need of improvement and no resources — manpower or money — to fix them.
But I was more excited when I thought it was a chance for authenticity. A chance to acknowledge that sometimes the church, the Bride of Christ, has some warts.
I don’t want to make this a church-bashing post. I feel like I do that far more than is healthy. Francis Chan, in his book “Forgotten God,” asks this question: “How much do you love the church?” I struggled with that question: do I love the church too much and therefore long to see her be all that she’s destined to be, or do I not love her enough to see past her faults and look at the good she does?
I’m still not sure of the answer.
But I’m tired of putting my best face forward. I’m actually not that good at it. When I’m upset, I have a hard time hiding it, even when I want to. This past week at church, I was tired from the 14-hour day on the road on Saturday, and emotionally drained from a tough but rewarding week with family. Corban was overtired and fussy and hard to put to sleep. I thought I could just get through the day unnoticed. Turns out someone noticed.
How many other Sundays am I struggling with something and able to hide it so that no one notices?
That’s just a start to my ugliness. And I’m just one person in the church. Tell me I’m not the only one who hides behind a made-up mask of perceived perfection.
I have seen the church do beautiful work. I have met her beautiful saints. I see her potential to radiate God’s love in a dark world.
But the truth is, the church DOES have an ugly side, and that too often is what the world sees and remembers.
I was challenged a couple of weeks ago by this quote from our Beth Moore Bible study: “When, because of your faith, your life too becomes perceptibly different; when your reactions are quite opposite to what the situation seems to call for and your activities can no longer be explained in terms of your personality; that is when your neighborhood will sit up and take notice. In the eyes of the world, it is not our relationship with Jesus Christ that counts; it is our resemblance to him!” — “The Queen and I” by Ray Stedman (emphasis mine).
Lately, I’m convicted at how little I resemble Christ to the world. There’s an ugly side to me, and maybe there always will be to some extent, but I’m desperate for God to work in me in such a way that the ugliness diminishes day by day.
We were reminded tonight at Bible study that God makes everything beautiful in its time. That’s true for me and for His church.
Maybe “Extreme Makeover: Church Edition” isn’t such a bad idea after all. But the church needs more than a fresh coat of paint or new carpet. She needs a change of heart, a return to her first love, a revival of the Spirit’s leading.
I don’t know when or how it will happen, but, man, will it be beautiful.
Ugly’s had its day. Time for a facelift.