happy is a yuppie word
A friend asked me the other day if I was happy. I said that I was, and I guess that's basically true, but I've been thinking about it ever since, and there's so much more to it than that.
I mean, what is happiness? Is happiness being sure of who you are and what you have and where you're going? Because if it is, I would say no, and I don't think anyone else could really answer much differently. In church, there's the monthly Bible study about the differences between happiness and peace. We talk a lot about peace, and having peace during times of trouble, that we can have peace and be joyful without the presence of "happiness," and secretly, I tend to think that is all bull sometimes, just because we know what happiness looks like, laughing and smiling and certainty; but what does peace look like?
I'm not gonna lie, I can't really answer that question, I can't say anything original or profound. But I can say that God has been teaching me a lot, and I think I'm beginning to see a little of what peace looks like, at least in my life. Last week, my social work professor asked us to write an essay about where we see ourselves five years from now; I wrote two pages about why I have absolutely no clue. I began this school year with a set of expectations which I felt were flexible, but fairly reasonable. I think it's safe to say that the picture looks pretty different now; from goals and school to relationships and beliefs. On the outside, maybe it doesn't look like circumstances have changed for the better in my situation. And maybe this isn't where I would've imagined myself to be right now. But somehow, I am confident that I'm in the right place, at the right time. Maybe that's a tiny bit of what peace is like - knowing that where we are right now is where we're supposed to be, and we make it what it is. There is little certainty in my life but the certainty that God is near, despite what my senses may tell me at times; there is the certainty that He loves me and has a plan for my life that is unfolding a day at a time. That is the only certainty God gives, and the only certainty I need.
"My coming to faith did not start with a leap but rather a series of staggers from what seemed like one safe place to another. Like lily pads, round and green, these places summoned and then held me up while I grew. Each prepared me for the next leaf on which I would land, and in this way I moved across the swamp of doubt and fear. When I look back at some of these early resting places...I can see how flimsy and indirect a path they made. Yet each step brought me closer to the verdant pad of faith on which I somehow stay afloat today..." -Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies
I mean, what is happiness? Is happiness being sure of who you are and what you have and where you're going? Because if it is, I would say no, and I don't think anyone else could really answer much differently. In church, there's the monthly Bible study about the differences between happiness and peace. We talk a lot about peace, and having peace during times of trouble, that we can have peace and be joyful without the presence of "happiness," and secretly, I tend to think that is all bull sometimes, just because we know what happiness looks like, laughing and smiling and certainty; but what does peace look like?
I'm not gonna lie, I can't really answer that question, I can't say anything original or profound. But I can say that God has been teaching me a lot, and I think I'm beginning to see a little of what peace looks like, at least in my life. Last week, my social work professor asked us to write an essay about where we see ourselves five years from now; I wrote two pages about why I have absolutely no clue. I began this school year with a set of expectations which I felt were flexible, but fairly reasonable. I think it's safe to say that the picture looks pretty different now; from goals and school to relationships and beliefs. On the outside, maybe it doesn't look like circumstances have changed for the better in my situation. And maybe this isn't where I would've imagined myself to be right now. But somehow, I am confident that I'm in the right place, at the right time. Maybe that's a tiny bit of what peace is like - knowing that where we are right now is where we're supposed to be, and we make it what it is. There is little certainty in my life but the certainty that God is near, despite what my senses may tell me at times; there is the certainty that He loves me and has a plan for my life that is unfolding a day at a time. That is the only certainty God gives, and the only certainty I need.
"My coming to faith did not start with a leap but rather a series of staggers from what seemed like one safe place to another. Like lily pads, round and green, these places summoned and then held me up while I grew. Each prepared me for the next leaf on which I would land, and in this way I moved across the swamp of doubt and fear. When I look back at some of these early resting places...I can see how flimsy and indirect a path they made. Yet each step brought me closer to the verdant pad of faith on which I somehow stay afloat today..." -Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies