Inventors curse...
I know—it is a phrase you probably have never heard before. It came from a blog I read regularly—www.prodigaljohn.com. Jon Acuff is a friend of mine from college. I remember meeting him my first week at Samford. I think it was even at orientation. Jon was this loud kid from Boston wearing a US Postal Service uniform shirt. Everything was “wicked,” and Jon was cool. And even more baffling, Jon was friends with me. Who knew?
Anyhow, back to this idea of “inventors curse.” Jon defines it as “that little voice inside us that says, ‘No one has ever failed like this. No one has ever done something so wrong. You are the only one in the world that struggles with this.’"
For those of you who know me, you know that I am usually stuck between the need to control and the need to be perfect. Not a good place to be. I feel like the little ball in that old Atari game—Pong. Control is on one side, and perfection is on the other side. I bounce back and forth… back and forth… Now, I don’t demand perfection from anyone else but myself. But honestly, that adds enough stress to my life that expecting others to be perfect might just put me completely over the edge.
The other day, I was reading Jon’s blog, and he was posting about what do to with a prodigal son or daughter. Jon was talking about things that parents can do to help their children who have gone astray, or to keep them from going astray. The first two were good—excellent, in fact. The first was that your life has currency. He basically said that your life experiences have weight and value when it comes to your own prodigal. The second is that you close the gap by creating firm boundaries. And the third was removing the “inventors curse.”
I began to really think about the inventors curse. I think it is Satan’s most effective tool in pulling me away from God. You see, when I sin, Satan starts to creep in and say to me “You are the only one—no one understands what you are going through…” And when I buy into it, I buy into this scam of the inventors curse. Satan isolates me—because I honestly believe that I am the first or the worst. And rather than finding strength from my friends or others who have struggled with these same things, I try to do it on my own. Remember—I am constantly bouncing between control and perfection!
But you see, I am not the first or the worst. I am not the first to commit a sin, nor am I the worst. In fact, I am far from it. And I forget that so often. I forget that my sin carries as much weight as anyone else’s. My sins are as painful to God as the “worst” sin of the “worst” sinner.
And the worst thing about the inventors curse is that it founded in pride—that my thoughts, my choices, my actions, my words, my sins are so original and so bad that Jesus’ blood doesn’t cover them. How arrogant am I to think that? How belittling to the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. How prideful.
And when I buy into the inventors curse, I allow myself to be separated from anyone who really can help me. If I didn’t invent that particular sin, then there are people out there that know what I am going through, and can help me. You see, there is safety in numbers. No—I am not talking about the advice my parents gave me when I went to college. I mean, that Satan attacks when we are most vulnerable. I am most vulnerable when I am alone—physically and spiritually. When there is no one holding me accountable and no one supporting me, then Satan attacks with a vengeance.
Ecc. 4:9-12 says “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: 10. If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! 11. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? 12. Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” Two are better than one. And three are better than two. And four are better than three… I think you get the idea. The more people I have supporting me, the less chance there is of me allowing the inventors curse to take hold. And the greater chance I have of being successful against Satan’s attack.
So as I sit here, thinking about all that I have done wrong—all my sin—equal in Gods eyes to any sin out there, and I have a choice. I can choose between buying into the inventors curse, and living a life of solitary guilt and shame. Or I can buy into the Inventors cross—and let the blood of Christ cover my sins and me.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
So tonight I took my personality profile. It is scary how accurate it was! Here is the summary... I would love to know what your profile says... (http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes3.asp)
Guardians of birthdays, holidays and celebrations, ESFJs are generous entertainers. They enjoy and joyfully observe traditions and are liberal in giving, especially where custom prescribes.
All else being equal, ESFJs enjoy being in charge. They see problems clearly and delegate easily, work hard and play with zest. ESFJs, as do most SJs, bear strong allegiance to rights of seniority. They willingly provide service (which embodies life's meaning) and expect the same from others.
ESFJs are easily wounded. And when wounded, their emotions will not be contained. They by nature "wear their hearts on their sleeves," often exuding warmth and bonhomie, but not infrequently boiling over with the vexation of their souls. Some ESFJs channel these vibrant emotions into moving dramatic performances on stage and screen.
Strong, contradictory forces consume the ESFJ. Their sense of right and wrong wrestles with an overwhelming rescuing, 'mothering' drive. This sometimes results in swift, immediate action taken upon a transgressor, followed by stern reprimand; ultimately, however, the prodigal is wrested from the gallows of their folly, just as the noose tightens and all hope is lost, by the very executioner!
An ESFJ at odds with self is a remarkable sight. When a decision must be made, especially one involving the risk of conflict (abhorrent to ESFJs), there ensues an in-house wrestling match between the aforementioned black-and-white Values and the Nemesis of Discord. The contender pits self against self, once firmly deciding with the Right, then switching to Prudence to forestall hostilities, countered by unswerving Values, ad exhaustium, winner take all.
As caretakers, ESFJs sense danger all around--germs within, the elements without, unscrupulous malefactors, insidious character flaws. The world is a dangerous place, not to be trusted. Not that the ESFJ is paranoid; 'hyper-vigilant' would be more precise. And thus they serve excellently as protectors, outstanding in fields such as medical care and elementary education.
Functional Analysis:
Extraverted Feeling
ESFJs live in their Extraverted Feeling functioning. Feeling, a rational (i.e., deciding) function, expresses opinions easily in the E world of objects and people. ESFJs have the ability to express warmth, rage, and a range of other emotions. Actions are encouraged or rebuked based on how they affect other people, especially people near and dear to the ESFJ. This type's vocal decisiveness predisposes many of its number to facility with administration and supervision.
Introverted Sensing
The secondary Sensing function aids and abets the dominant Fe in that sensate data is collected and at once compared with the inner forms or standards. Data on which decisions are made are thus focused and given a contrast which tends to be stronger and clearer than the original stimuli. The strengthening effect of Si on Fe may be responsible for this type's reputation for wearing their "hearts on their sleeves." At any rate, ESFJs reflect the "black and white" view of reality which is common to the SJ types.
Extraverted iNtuition
Intuition is tertiary--as the ESFJ matures, and as situations arise which call for suspension of criticism, Ne is allowed to play. Under the leadership of the Fe function, iNtuition allows for a loosening of the more rigid Si rights and wrongs; teasing and slapstick humor emerge. ESFJs are also capable of discerning patterns and philosophies, but such perceiving is subject to the weakness of the tertiary position, and the results often lack the variety and complexity of connections that more complex systems require.
Introverted Thinking
The inferior Ti function may rarely be expressed. In fact, ESFJs may take affront at the aloof, detached nature of dominant Ti types, or conversely, be drawn to them. Some ESFJs construct rationale which have the appearance of (Jungian) Thinking logic, but under scrutiny are in fact command performances of "Thinking in the service of Feeling," (i.e., Thinking-like conclusions which do not obey the tenets of impersonal logic; they rather construct scenarios from only those "hard, cold facts" which support the conclusion reached by the dominant Extraverted Feeling function. To wit:
You don't sew with a fork, so I see no reason to eat
with knitting needles.
-- Miss Piggy, on eating Chinese Food
Famous ESFJs:
U.S. Presidents:
William McKinley
William J. Clinton
Jack Benny
Desi Arnaz ("Ricky Ricardo")
Don Knotts ("Barney Fife")
John Connally (former Governor of Texas)
Terry Bradshaw, NFL quarterback
Sally Struthers (All in the Family)
Mary Tyler Moore
Dixie Carter (Designing Women)
Steve Spurrier, Heismann trophy winner, Univ. of Fla. football coach
Sally Field
Danny Glover, actor (Lethal Weapon movies, Predator 2 Margaret Butt
Nancy Kerrigan (U.S. olympic figureskater)
Elvis Stojko (Canadian olympic figureskater)
Fictional ESFJs:
Babbitt (Sinclair Lewis)
Hoss Cartwright (Bonanza)
Leonard "Bones" McCoy (Star Trek)
Monica (Friends)
Haleh (ER)
Donald Duck
Rabbit, Winnie the Pooh
Guardians of birthdays, holidays and celebrations, ESFJs are generous entertainers. They enjoy and joyfully observe traditions and are liberal in giving, especially where custom prescribes.
All else being equal, ESFJs enjoy being in charge. They see problems clearly and delegate easily, work hard and play with zest. ESFJs, as do most SJs, bear strong allegiance to rights of seniority. They willingly provide service (which embodies life's meaning) and expect the same from others.
ESFJs are easily wounded. And when wounded, their emotions will not be contained. They by nature "wear their hearts on their sleeves," often exuding warmth and bonhomie, but not infrequently boiling over with the vexation of their souls. Some ESFJs channel these vibrant emotions into moving dramatic performances on stage and screen.
Strong, contradictory forces consume the ESFJ. Their sense of right and wrong wrestles with an overwhelming rescuing, 'mothering' drive. This sometimes results in swift, immediate action taken upon a transgressor, followed by stern reprimand; ultimately, however, the prodigal is wrested from the gallows of their folly, just as the noose tightens and all hope is lost, by the very executioner!
An ESFJ at odds with self is a remarkable sight. When a decision must be made, especially one involving the risk of conflict (abhorrent to ESFJs), there ensues an in-house wrestling match between the aforementioned black-and-white Values and the Nemesis of Discord. The contender pits self against self, once firmly deciding with the Right, then switching to Prudence to forestall hostilities, countered by unswerving Values, ad exhaustium, winner take all.
As caretakers, ESFJs sense danger all around--germs within, the elements without, unscrupulous malefactors, insidious character flaws. The world is a dangerous place, not to be trusted. Not that the ESFJ is paranoid; 'hyper-vigilant' would be more precise. And thus they serve excellently as protectors, outstanding in fields such as medical care and elementary education.
Functional Analysis:
Extraverted Feeling
ESFJs live in their Extraverted Feeling functioning. Feeling, a rational (i.e., deciding) function, expresses opinions easily in the E world of objects and people. ESFJs have the ability to express warmth, rage, and a range of other emotions. Actions are encouraged or rebuked based on how they affect other people, especially people near and dear to the ESFJ. This type's vocal decisiveness predisposes many of its number to facility with administration and supervision.
Introverted Sensing
The secondary Sensing function aids and abets the dominant Fe in that sensate data is collected and at once compared with the inner forms or standards. Data on which decisions are made are thus focused and given a contrast which tends to be stronger and clearer than the original stimuli. The strengthening effect of Si on Fe may be responsible for this type's reputation for wearing their "hearts on their sleeves." At any rate, ESFJs reflect the "black and white" view of reality which is common to the SJ types.
Extraverted iNtuition
Intuition is tertiary--as the ESFJ matures, and as situations arise which call for suspension of criticism, Ne is allowed to play. Under the leadership of the Fe function, iNtuition allows for a loosening of the more rigid Si rights and wrongs; teasing and slapstick humor emerge. ESFJs are also capable of discerning patterns and philosophies, but such perceiving is subject to the weakness of the tertiary position, and the results often lack the variety and complexity of connections that more complex systems require.
Introverted Thinking
The inferior Ti function may rarely be expressed. In fact, ESFJs may take affront at the aloof, detached nature of dominant Ti types, or conversely, be drawn to them. Some ESFJs construct rationale which have the appearance of (Jungian) Thinking logic, but under scrutiny are in fact command performances of "Thinking in the service of Feeling," (i.e., Thinking-like conclusions which do not obey the tenets of impersonal logic; they rather construct scenarios from only those "hard, cold facts" which support the conclusion reached by the dominant Extraverted Feeling function. To wit:
You don't sew with a fork, so I see no reason to eat
with knitting needles.
-- Miss Piggy, on eating Chinese Food
Famous ESFJs:
U.S. Presidents:
William McKinley
William J. Clinton
Jack Benny
Desi Arnaz ("Ricky Ricardo")
Don Knotts ("Barney Fife")
John Connally (former Governor of Texas)
Terry Bradshaw, NFL quarterback
Sally Struthers (All in the Family)
Mary Tyler Moore
Dixie Carter (Designing Women)
Steve Spurrier, Heismann trophy winner, Univ. of Fla. football coach
Sally Field
Danny Glover, actor (Lethal Weapon movies, Predator 2 Margaret Butt
Nancy Kerrigan (U.S. olympic figureskater)
Elvis Stojko (Canadian olympic figureskater)
Fictional ESFJs:
Babbitt (Sinclair Lewis)
Hoss Cartwright (Bonanza)
Leonard "Bones" McCoy (Star Trek)
Monica (Friends)
Haleh (ER)
Donald Duck
Rabbit, Winnie the Pooh
Thursday, September 18, 2008
What if your heart lies?
Every day, with my angels, I start off talking about the calendar. We always go over the date, and talk about what makes today special? How is today unlike any other day we have lived… Sometimes the kids get it and are profound, and others days… Not so much. I guess kind of like me!
One of the things I emphasize to them (EVERY morning) is that today is special because they have the power to make it the best day possible. We talk about making wise choices—and how those wise choices will help us as we go to sleep tonight. We won’t be up worrying and wondering “What if…” I also remind them that there will never be another September 15, 2008, so they need to work hard at making today worth remembering—for positive things, for doing their best, for giving 100%.
I know—it is pretty heavy stuff for 6 year olds—because it is pretty heave stuff for this 32 year old. How do I go throughout the day making wise choices at every turn? I don’t know if it is possible.
I always joke that I have been known to be wrong—but it was just that one time, back in 1988 when I was 12. Hmm… But in reality, I am wrong every day. But what is the common denominator with my “wrong choices?”
I heard a quote recently that I have modified to make “my own” that says "The number of its supporters doesn’t measure the rightness of a decision." How hard is that in our ever-growing secular world? It is so hard!
We are bombarded day in and day out with images, slogans and all manner of outside pressures that encourage us to look at our hearts—do what your heart says. If you want it, buy it! If you don’t like her, divorce her. If you don’t want it, toss it. We live in a disposable world.
There was a band that I used to really love—they were called The Paul Coleman Trio. They have a song called “Run. The song starts off like this:
Sometimes you gotta run into the arms of danger
Sometimes you gotta be the sacrifice
Sometimes you gotta say things that don't come easy
They say just follow your heart but what if it lies?
Hmmm… They say just follow your heart but what if it lies? Any of you who know me, know that I am a strong believer in choosing how you feel. My heart is as imperfect as my soul. Things that feel so right to my heart, are all too often so wrong. There are some feelings you can’t choose—gut instincts, reactions and other feelings are totally natural. But choosing to continue to feel them is another game altogether. I can be hurt by someone’s actions, but I can choose to either forgive them and try to move on, or allow that hurt to remain. Make sense?
We, as humans and “herd animals” want to be accepted by others. We eventually begin to measure the rightness of our choices by looking at what others say and think about our lives or us. That is where I get into so much trouble.
My heart just wants to be accepted—and so as I go through each day, I often ask myself “Will this choice please my colleagues, students or peers?” Why do I do that? The answer is simple—because I want to feel accepted. My decisions, when I am in that mind set, are made with my heart—which I know to be faulty and untrue. My heart lies—and all too often it lies to make me feel at home in the secular world…
So, how do I keep my heart from lying to me?
One of the things I emphasize to them (EVERY morning) is that today is special because they have the power to make it the best day possible. We talk about making wise choices—and how those wise choices will help us as we go to sleep tonight. We won’t be up worrying and wondering “What if…” I also remind them that there will never be another September 15, 2008, so they need to work hard at making today worth remembering—for positive things, for doing their best, for giving 100%.
I know—it is pretty heavy stuff for 6 year olds—because it is pretty heave stuff for this 32 year old. How do I go throughout the day making wise choices at every turn? I don’t know if it is possible.
I always joke that I have been known to be wrong—but it was just that one time, back in 1988 when I was 12. Hmm… But in reality, I am wrong every day. But what is the common denominator with my “wrong choices?”
I heard a quote recently that I have modified to make “my own” that says "The number of its supporters doesn’t measure the rightness of a decision." How hard is that in our ever-growing secular world? It is so hard!
We are bombarded day in and day out with images, slogans and all manner of outside pressures that encourage us to look at our hearts—do what your heart says. If you want it, buy it! If you don’t like her, divorce her. If you don’t want it, toss it. We live in a disposable world.
There was a band that I used to really love—they were called The Paul Coleman Trio. They have a song called “Run. The song starts off like this:
Sometimes you gotta run into the arms of danger
Sometimes you gotta be the sacrifice
Sometimes you gotta say things that don't come easy
They say just follow your heart but what if it lies?
Hmmm… They say just follow your heart but what if it lies? Any of you who know me, know that I am a strong believer in choosing how you feel. My heart is as imperfect as my soul. Things that feel so right to my heart, are all too often so wrong. There are some feelings you can’t choose—gut instincts, reactions and other feelings are totally natural. But choosing to continue to feel them is another game altogether. I can be hurt by someone’s actions, but I can choose to either forgive them and try to move on, or allow that hurt to remain. Make sense?
We, as humans and “herd animals” want to be accepted by others. We eventually begin to measure the rightness of our choices by looking at what others say and think about our lives or us. That is where I get into so much trouble.
My heart just wants to be accepted—and so as I go through each day, I often ask myself “Will this choice please my colleagues, students or peers?” Why do I do that? The answer is simple—because I want to feel accepted. My decisions, when I am in that mind set, are made with my heart—which I know to be faulty and untrue. My heart lies—and all too often it lies to make me feel at home in the secular world…
So, how do I keep my heart from lying to me?
Monday, September 15, 2008
Valleys
The other day, a friend and I went to Oak Mountain. It was amazing. The mountains were crying out to God—in a way that I could not at that point. As I listened to the wind in the leaves, I heard the earth applauding God for his splendor and glory. I have communed with nature before—but I have never felt as though I was having a worshipful experience—lead by God’s creation.
The climb up the mountain was beautiful—I was looking up, towards the peak. Granted, we were in the car, and not hiking, but all around me, I could see and hear the beauty that is God’s earth. But, again, I was constantly looking up—reaching for the apex of the mountain, knowing I would find solace there; knowing I would find communion.
As we left, I found myself absorbed with the scene around me as we drove down, down, down, down into the deep valley. As we got deeper, I found myself enamored with what I was seeing. I was seeing trees, flowers, animals, sky, clouds, leaves—just another manifestation of God’s beauty and majesty around me. It was gorgeous. It was dark, with light filtering through the branches, yet very clearly inhabited and life sustaining.
As we descended into the valley, I came to a realization—the valley is a beautiful place! In my life, I spend so much of my life looking up—looking for the peak, for the apex of this life season, that I don’t think about what I am seeing and what I can learn about God and his glory while I am in the valley.
I mentioned how beautiful I found the valley—that I never really thought of it as a beautiful place. My friend was, being an avid outdoorsman, floored, to say the least. ☺ He couldn’t believe that I hadn’t taken the time to see and live in the Valley.
As I look at my spiritual life, I realize that I live with that same philosophy. I am so anxious to get to the peak—to the top of the mountain so that I can be as close to God as I physically can. I forget that the valleys are just as important as the mountain peaks.
The valleys are where your character is molded and forged. The valleys are where your faith is tested and where you find out what you’re made of. You can’t reach the mountaintops if you don’t ever go through a valley.
Then, my mind is taken to the mountaintop, again. When we were up at the top of Oak Mountain, I looked down, and saw how beautifully God created the landscape around me. I saw how the character of the landscape was cut by God’s words—He spoke, and it was. But, without the valleys, the landscape is just… blah. There is no character, no beauty, and no breathtaking scenery.
As I am going through this next season of my life, I am realizing that I am coming out of the valley. But this time, as I come out of the valley, I am learning that while I need to be reaching for the top of the mountain, I also need to enjoy the valley as I am journeying through it. I need to find God’s majesty and light sprinkling down into the undergrowth of my sadness. I need to discover God’s sustenance in the darkest places. But most importantly, I need to remember that when I get to the top of the mountain, the view is so beautiful because of the valleys I went through to get there—not despite them.
The climb up the mountain was beautiful—I was looking up, towards the peak. Granted, we were in the car, and not hiking, but all around me, I could see and hear the beauty that is God’s earth. But, again, I was constantly looking up—reaching for the apex of the mountain, knowing I would find solace there; knowing I would find communion.
As we left, I found myself absorbed with the scene around me as we drove down, down, down, down into the deep valley. As we got deeper, I found myself enamored with what I was seeing. I was seeing trees, flowers, animals, sky, clouds, leaves—just another manifestation of God’s beauty and majesty around me. It was gorgeous. It was dark, with light filtering through the branches, yet very clearly inhabited and life sustaining.
As we descended into the valley, I came to a realization—the valley is a beautiful place! In my life, I spend so much of my life looking up—looking for the peak, for the apex of this life season, that I don’t think about what I am seeing and what I can learn about God and his glory while I am in the valley.
I mentioned how beautiful I found the valley—that I never really thought of it as a beautiful place. My friend was, being an avid outdoorsman, floored, to say the least. ☺ He couldn’t believe that I hadn’t taken the time to see and live in the Valley.
As I look at my spiritual life, I realize that I live with that same philosophy. I am so anxious to get to the peak—to the top of the mountain so that I can be as close to God as I physically can. I forget that the valleys are just as important as the mountain peaks.
The valleys are where your character is molded and forged. The valleys are where your faith is tested and where you find out what you’re made of. You can’t reach the mountaintops if you don’t ever go through a valley.
Then, my mind is taken to the mountaintop, again. When we were up at the top of Oak Mountain, I looked down, and saw how beautifully God created the landscape around me. I saw how the character of the landscape was cut by God’s words—He spoke, and it was. But, without the valleys, the landscape is just… blah. There is no character, no beauty, and no breathtaking scenery.
As I am going through this next season of my life, I am realizing that I am coming out of the valley. But this time, as I come out of the valley, I am learning that while I need to be reaching for the top of the mountain, I also need to enjoy the valley as I am journeying through it. I need to find God’s majesty and light sprinkling down into the undergrowth of my sadness. I need to discover God’s sustenance in the darkest places. But most importantly, I need to remember that when I get to the top of the mountain, the view is so beautiful because of the valleys I went through to get there—not despite them.
Monday, September 8, 2008
This one I also wrote a while ago--I am slow to post these days! :)
Happiness vs. Joy:
So not too long ago, I wrote about the difference between sadness and sorrow. And as I read it again today, it felt so incomplete. I felt like it was missing something—something critical. So I started to think and ask God—what am I missing here…
And I just realized it isn’t that I am missing something, per say, it is more that I left it a bit incomplete. I addressed the sorrow and sadness aspect, but I completely left out the other sides of the coins—happiness vs. joy.
I have not truly experienced sorrow in my lifetime. I am grateful for that. God has spared me that. I have felt sadness—and fleeting as it was, it was real. I have experienced a lot of happiness in my life—and sometimes even joy.
Webster defines happiness as “delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing.” Happiness is a good thing. We all need happiness. In fact, we as a culture are obsessed with happiness. There was even a movie called “The Pursuit of Happyness.” (Now, I loved the movie, and it wasn’t what the world would call happiness, which is probably why I loved it so much!) But we are a culture and a world that is obsessed with being happy.
Look at TV ads and magazines—if you just buy this product, you will be happy. No more wrinkles for you. No more _____________ (fill in the blank) for you. You will be happy if you just have this one thing… Really? I have a lot of things, but still am not always happy. Happiness, just like sadness, is like a vapor—here one minute, gone the next.
About 2 years ago, I went out and bought an iPod nano. I was so excited. It was cute, it was green, it was the next big thing. Then, less than a year ago, it was stolen. Out of my car. In my driveway. Yeah. I was ticked off, but mostly that I was stupid enough to leave something as expensive as that just laying about. When I first got the nano, I was so excited—and once buyers’ remorse wore off, I was happy. But did my iPod bring me joy? No—not so much. My happiness with my iPod was contingent on having the iPod. And I didn’t have it for very long. Sigh
So much of life is that way. The only happiness it brings is the happiness you feel when you have it. And too many things can be taken away. Objects—they can be stolen, lost, or broken. Relationships—they can be fractured or broken. Feelings—they can be misleading. Having things doesn’t make life more pleasant. Happiness is based on being “delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing.” Wow.
Now joy—that is something I can get behind. Webster defines joy as “to feel joy; be glad; rejoice.” To rejoice. Hmmm… I love that. Rejoice is a verb. It is an action—a state of being, almost. I can be full of joy in the midst of a storm. It is an action that I can choose to do—or not to do. It is like sorrow in so many ways—it is pervasive. It sinks deep within and colors everything that you see, do and say. Joy, very often is a choice. But how does one choose joy over happiness?
Joy comes from one source—God. Without God, you cannot find joy. God fills you to overflowing with joy—if you let Him. People who don’t know God are looking for that source of joy. And unfortunately, they substitute happiness for joy. They think, quite mistakenly, that happiness and joy are one in the same. Happiness is an emotion based on circumstance. Joy is a state of being despite circumstance. How amazing is that?
As I head off to bed, I am both happy and joyful. I am happy that I have a bed to go to. I am tired—exhausted, really, but yet I am joyful. I am filled with joy from God because I think I have glimpsed my life from an outside perspective. I am not perfect—no matter how hard I try, I cannot ever be perfect. And that kills me.
But you know what? No one is perfect. The only perfect being on this Earth died to save my imperfect soul. If I can’t find joy in that, then I am not looking with the right heart, attitude and eyes. I choose to be joyful because when faced with the reality of who I was before Christ and who I am now, how can I not be? God loves me—hairy warts, stubborn heart (that is sometimes two sizes too small!), and all.
Happiness vs. Joy:
So not too long ago, I wrote about the difference between sadness and sorrow. And as I read it again today, it felt so incomplete. I felt like it was missing something—something critical. So I started to think and ask God—what am I missing here…
And I just realized it isn’t that I am missing something, per say, it is more that I left it a bit incomplete. I addressed the sorrow and sadness aspect, but I completely left out the other sides of the coins—happiness vs. joy.
I have not truly experienced sorrow in my lifetime. I am grateful for that. God has spared me that. I have felt sadness—and fleeting as it was, it was real. I have experienced a lot of happiness in my life—and sometimes even joy.
Webster defines happiness as “delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing.” Happiness is a good thing. We all need happiness. In fact, we as a culture are obsessed with happiness. There was even a movie called “The Pursuit of Happyness.” (Now, I loved the movie, and it wasn’t what the world would call happiness, which is probably why I loved it so much!) But we are a culture and a world that is obsessed with being happy.
Look at TV ads and magazines—if you just buy this product, you will be happy. No more wrinkles for you. No more _____________ (fill in the blank) for you. You will be happy if you just have this one thing… Really? I have a lot of things, but still am not always happy. Happiness, just like sadness, is like a vapor—here one minute, gone the next.
About 2 years ago, I went out and bought an iPod nano. I was so excited. It was cute, it was green, it was the next big thing. Then, less than a year ago, it was stolen. Out of my car. In my driveway. Yeah. I was ticked off, but mostly that I was stupid enough to leave something as expensive as that just laying about. When I first got the nano, I was so excited—and once buyers’ remorse wore off, I was happy. But did my iPod bring me joy? No—not so much. My happiness with my iPod was contingent on having the iPod. And I didn’t have it for very long. Sigh
So much of life is that way. The only happiness it brings is the happiness you feel when you have it. And too many things can be taken away. Objects—they can be stolen, lost, or broken. Relationships—they can be fractured or broken. Feelings—they can be misleading. Having things doesn’t make life more pleasant. Happiness is based on being “delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing.” Wow.
Now joy—that is something I can get behind. Webster defines joy as “to feel joy; be glad; rejoice.” To rejoice. Hmmm… I love that. Rejoice is a verb. It is an action—a state of being, almost. I can be full of joy in the midst of a storm. It is an action that I can choose to do—or not to do. It is like sorrow in so many ways—it is pervasive. It sinks deep within and colors everything that you see, do and say. Joy, very often is a choice. But how does one choose joy over happiness?
Joy comes from one source—God. Without God, you cannot find joy. God fills you to overflowing with joy—if you let Him. People who don’t know God are looking for that source of joy. And unfortunately, they substitute happiness for joy. They think, quite mistakenly, that happiness and joy are one in the same. Happiness is an emotion based on circumstance. Joy is a state of being despite circumstance. How amazing is that?
As I head off to bed, I am both happy and joyful. I am happy that I have a bed to go to. I am tired—exhausted, really, but yet I am joyful. I am filled with joy from God because I think I have glimpsed my life from an outside perspective. I am not perfect—no matter how hard I try, I cannot ever be perfect. And that kills me.
But you know what? No one is perfect. The only perfect being on this Earth died to save my imperfect soul. If I can’t find joy in that, then I am not looking with the right heart, attitude and eyes. I choose to be joyful because when faced with the reality of who I was before Christ and who I am now, how can I not be? God loves me—hairy warts, stubborn heart (that is sometimes two sizes too small!), and all.
Sorrow vs. Sadness
I wrote this about 4 weeks ago and am just not getting around to posting it...
Sorrow… That is not a word we use very often. We say sad or maybe even inconsolable. But sorrowful? It isn’t a word we use very much. Tonight, I was confronted head on with the word sorrow and it got me to wondering—what is the difference between sadness and sorrow?
Sadness, according to Webster, is “affected with or expressive of grief or unhappiness.” I am very often sad. I am good at expressing my grief or unhappiness. Sadness, though powerful, is fleeting. It is there for a short time, and eventually fades, like a bruise. I think of it a lot like a vapor—here one minute, but it doesn’t take much for it to be gone the next. I feel sadness—it is in my heart and mind. But there is where it stays.
Sorrow, on the other hand, is different. Sorrow is another ballgame altogether, really. Our good friend Webster defines sorrow as “deep distress, sadness, or regret especially for the loss of someone or something loved.” Hmmmm…. It is missing something, though. I feel as though sorrow has much more to do with our soul than with our feelings.
Sorrow sweeps into our hearts—it saturates our minds, and seeps into the very marrow of who we are. Sadness doesn’t seem to be as pervasive as sorrow. I am able to express my sadness—but my sorrow? I am not able to do that. I can honestly say I can’t express my sorrow. To express that which has caused our deep distress, sadness or regret requires vulnerability. And I don’t show weakness… That is one of my weaknesses.
So what do you do when you are confronted with sorrow, rather than sadness? How do you look someone who is so immersed in sorrow that “I’m sorry” or really any other platitude sounds trite? How do you comfort them? My heart cries out for action, for words—anything, really! But unless you know sorrow, you are useless. All you can do is hold a hand through it. Sometimes that is all that is needed.
Tonight, when I was confronted with raw sorrow, God took my words away. He knew that anything I said would sound forced, fake or insincere. I asked for His ears to listen with, I begged him for His heart to feel with, and His words to comfort.
God definitely gave me his ears—I heard the cry of a broken heart. My heart, in turn, was broken. My heart—my selfish little Grinch-like heart—that sometimes IS two sizes too small, was filled with compassion and love for a friend’s sorrow. God gave me His heart to feel with. But His words? They were nowhere to be found. And I think that was ok…
Well, two out of three isn’t bad! ☺
Sorrow… That is not a word we use very often. We say sad or maybe even inconsolable. But sorrowful? It isn’t a word we use very much. Tonight, I was confronted head on with the word sorrow and it got me to wondering—what is the difference between sadness and sorrow?
Sadness, according to Webster, is “affected with or expressive of grief or unhappiness.” I am very often sad. I am good at expressing my grief or unhappiness. Sadness, though powerful, is fleeting. It is there for a short time, and eventually fades, like a bruise. I think of it a lot like a vapor—here one minute, but it doesn’t take much for it to be gone the next. I feel sadness—it is in my heart and mind. But there is where it stays.
Sorrow, on the other hand, is different. Sorrow is another ballgame altogether, really. Our good friend Webster defines sorrow as “deep distress, sadness, or regret especially for the loss of someone or something loved.” Hmmmm…. It is missing something, though. I feel as though sorrow has much more to do with our soul than with our feelings.
Sorrow sweeps into our hearts—it saturates our minds, and seeps into the very marrow of who we are. Sadness doesn’t seem to be as pervasive as sorrow. I am able to express my sadness—but my sorrow? I am not able to do that. I can honestly say I can’t express my sorrow. To express that which has caused our deep distress, sadness or regret requires vulnerability. And I don’t show weakness… That is one of my weaknesses.
So what do you do when you are confronted with sorrow, rather than sadness? How do you look someone who is so immersed in sorrow that “I’m sorry” or really any other platitude sounds trite? How do you comfort them? My heart cries out for action, for words—anything, really! But unless you know sorrow, you are useless. All you can do is hold a hand through it. Sometimes that is all that is needed.
Tonight, when I was confronted with raw sorrow, God took my words away. He knew that anything I said would sound forced, fake or insincere. I asked for His ears to listen with, I begged him for His heart to feel with, and His words to comfort.
God definitely gave me his ears—I heard the cry of a broken heart. My heart, in turn, was broken. My heart—my selfish little Grinch-like heart—that sometimes IS two sizes too small, was filled with compassion and love for a friend’s sorrow. God gave me His heart to feel with. But His words? They were nowhere to be found. And I think that was ok…
Well, two out of three isn’t bad! ☺
Crumble
Crumble…
Casting Crowns has a song out right now—Slow Fade. The chorus goes like this:
It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
It's a slow fade, it's a slow fade
People never crumble in a day… Hmmmm…. How true is that statement?
When I was in about the 7th or 8th grade, we had just moved back to Korea from the States. I was in a new school, and it was ok. I hated middle school, but what girl didn’t? ☺ Anyhow, none of that has to do with this story. It was either spring or early summer—the wet season in Korea. We had been hit by a typhoon, and there was massive flooding all around Seoul.
In Korea, we lived on a compound. No—not the David Koresh/Waco type compound, but a community of missionaries. We just happened to have a wall around our property. I honestly don’t know why—I just know that was the way it was in Korea when I was growing up. So our compound was set up on a hill—we were probably half way up the mountain. (I guess it was a mountain…) There was a wall that separated us from the family who owned the house above our compound.
One night, in the midst of the terrible rain and storm of the typhoon, the wall between their property and our compound gave way—their house fell into our property. I don’t remember it—I was a good sleeper then. But I do remember waking up and finding a strange Korean family in our house. I also remember the scene—there were pots and pans, laundry, and furniture scattered down the side of the hill. All they held dear was washed away.
The family in the living room was so embarrassed. I guess that is just something cultural. They couldn’t control the landslide—it was well beyond their means of control. The wall that had been built 20+ years before had finally crumbled and gave way. It wasn’t an instant thing—it was something that had happened over the course of the life of the wall. One little raindrop didn’t cause the foundation to crack. It was the culmination of thousands of raindrops over the course of years.
I look at my life like that wall. My foundation was built—like the wise man that built his house upon the rock. But as I have lived my life, I have been hit by storms, and by trials… and by poor choices. And each time I have been hit by the storms of life, my wall seems to have gotten a little bit weaker, and a little bit weaker. Until there is a landslide, and I have crumbled.
The song Slow Fade continues:
The journey from your mind to your hands
Is shorter than you're thinking
Be careful if you think you stand
You just might be sinking
The main thing, though, that causes me to crumble is my mind—and the choices I make. “The journey from your mind to your hands is shorter than you’re thinking…” And that is how Satan gets me… He puts a sinful thought into my mind—at first I am shocked by it because that is NOT of God and shut it down before it even hits the soil of my mind. And sometimes, I am shocked, but don’t shut it down immediately. The seed hits the fertile ground of my mind.
And then, Satan tries again… and again… and again… raindrop after raindrop, storm after storm, until I give in and entertain that thought. Not actually to the point of acting on it, but entertaining it. Then the “What if’s…” syndrome sets in. “Well, what if I did that? It’s not as bad as X…” And once the what if’s set in, I am a goner. My wall takes a hit, and Satan chips a little bit out from underneath me. And it starts all over again…
And suddenly—or not so suddenly, really, I start to slip and fall down the side of the mountain until I hit a roadblock, or rock bottom. And I look back up the mountain, and see the laundry of my sin strewn on the ground for everyone to see. And I am embarrassed. But unlike the poor Korean family in our living room that morning, this landslide wasn’t beyond my control—I willingly took each step closer and closer to the edge. And fell. No—tumbled down the mountain. Leaving the evidence of my sin and sinful life scattered behind for all to see.
People never crumble in a day…. No—it is truly a slow fade.
Casting Crowns has a song out right now—Slow Fade. The chorus goes like this:
It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
It's a slow fade, it's a slow fade
People never crumble in a day… Hmmmm…. How true is that statement?
When I was in about the 7th or 8th grade, we had just moved back to Korea from the States. I was in a new school, and it was ok. I hated middle school, but what girl didn’t? ☺ Anyhow, none of that has to do with this story. It was either spring or early summer—the wet season in Korea. We had been hit by a typhoon, and there was massive flooding all around Seoul.
In Korea, we lived on a compound. No—not the David Koresh/Waco type compound, but a community of missionaries. We just happened to have a wall around our property. I honestly don’t know why—I just know that was the way it was in Korea when I was growing up. So our compound was set up on a hill—we were probably half way up the mountain. (I guess it was a mountain…) There was a wall that separated us from the family who owned the house above our compound.
One night, in the midst of the terrible rain and storm of the typhoon, the wall between their property and our compound gave way—their house fell into our property. I don’t remember it—I was a good sleeper then. But I do remember waking up and finding a strange Korean family in our house. I also remember the scene—there were pots and pans, laundry, and furniture scattered down the side of the hill. All they held dear was washed away.
The family in the living room was so embarrassed. I guess that is just something cultural. They couldn’t control the landslide—it was well beyond their means of control. The wall that had been built 20+ years before had finally crumbled and gave way. It wasn’t an instant thing—it was something that had happened over the course of the life of the wall. One little raindrop didn’t cause the foundation to crack. It was the culmination of thousands of raindrops over the course of years.
I look at my life like that wall. My foundation was built—like the wise man that built his house upon the rock. But as I have lived my life, I have been hit by storms, and by trials… and by poor choices. And each time I have been hit by the storms of life, my wall seems to have gotten a little bit weaker, and a little bit weaker. Until there is a landslide, and I have crumbled.
The song Slow Fade continues:
The journey from your mind to your hands
Is shorter than you're thinking
Be careful if you think you stand
You just might be sinking
The main thing, though, that causes me to crumble is my mind—and the choices I make. “The journey from your mind to your hands is shorter than you’re thinking…” And that is how Satan gets me… He puts a sinful thought into my mind—at first I am shocked by it because that is NOT of God and shut it down before it even hits the soil of my mind. And sometimes, I am shocked, but don’t shut it down immediately. The seed hits the fertile ground of my mind.
And then, Satan tries again… and again… and again… raindrop after raindrop, storm after storm, until I give in and entertain that thought. Not actually to the point of acting on it, but entertaining it. Then the “What if’s…” syndrome sets in. “Well, what if I did that? It’s not as bad as X…” And once the what if’s set in, I am a goner. My wall takes a hit, and Satan chips a little bit out from underneath me. And it starts all over again…
And suddenly—or not so suddenly, really, I start to slip and fall down the side of the mountain until I hit a roadblock, or rock bottom. And I look back up the mountain, and see the laundry of my sin strewn on the ground for everyone to see. And I am embarrassed. But unlike the poor Korean family in our living room that morning, this landslide wasn’t beyond my control—I willingly took each step closer and closer to the edge. And fell. No—tumbled down the mountain. Leaving the evidence of my sin and sinful life scattered behind for all to see.
People never crumble in a day…. No—it is truly a slow fade.
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