INDEPENDENTLY HAPPY
Please don’t consider me shallow or think that I dislike my job when I say this, but lately I’ve been wishing I was independently wealthy. It’s not that I don’t like my work or work in general, it’s just that it would be awfully nice to sleep in, go for long runs, watch the Eagles game, get more involved at church, and visit museums. And send my personal assistant to buy Christmas gifts and go food shopping.
I shared these pinings with one of my close friends. He is good at being my voice of reason (even and especially when that involves literally knocking that sense into me). He replied, “Ah, but wealth does not necessarily guarantee happiness.” I know this to be true. In fact, with money sometimes comes more problems, not less. Like in the Puffy song, “The more money we come across, the problems we see.”
It got me thinking, though: am I independently happy? And I had to admit to myself and my friend that I am not. My happiness is so dependent on so many things. Not to say that we should strive for the other end of the spectrum and become total stoics, neither rejoicing in great highs nor lamenting great lows. The Christian life is not one of stoicism, but one of emotion.
And yet, I believe that those who profess to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ should enjoy some level of independent happiness. As the old hymn goes, we know that whatever befalls us, Jesus walks with us and does well in leading us. So there ought to be a rootedness in our relationship with Jesus that allows us to enjoy a deep level of happiness, independent of the many trials and seasons of life that we undergo.
I do not often experience that rootedness. My happiness is highly dependent on things that change like Jeannie Zelasko’s hairstyle on Fox Baseball. (Sorry, low blow. I actually like her.) If the weather is good, if the Raiders won, if I catch the subway right on time . . . such insignificant things can mean the difference between a countenance that soars and one that flops. For someone who considers himself somewhat deep, I am awfully and embarrassingly shallow.
The very first psalm gives us the imagery of trees planted by water, whose roots are deep and whose trunks are thick. And so it is with the Christian whose relationship with Jesus is solid. I may never be independently wealthy, no matter how hard I try or how lucky I am. But if I invest in my spiritual roots, I can one day enjoy independent happiness. And as my wise friend would tell me, that’s a richer life.
Please don’t consider me shallow or think that I dislike my job when I say this, but lately I’ve been wishing I was independently wealthy. It’s not that I don’t like my work or work in general, it’s just that it would be awfully nice to sleep in, go for long runs, watch the Eagles game, get more involved at church, and visit museums. And send my personal assistant to buy Christmas gifts and go food shopping.
I shared these pinings with one of my close friends. He is good at being my voice of reason (even and especially when that involves literally knocking that sense into me). He replied, “Ah, but wealth does not necessarily guarantee happiness.” I know this to be true. In fact, with money sometimes comes more problems, not less. Like in the Puffy song, “The more money we come across, the problems we see.”
It got me thinking, though: am I independently happy? And I had to admit to myself and my friend that I am not. My happiness is so dependent on so many things. Not to say that we should strive for the other end of the spectrum and become total stoics, neither rejoicing in great highs nor lamenting great lows. The Christian life is not one of stoicism, but one of emotion.
And yet, I believe that those who profess to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ should enjoy some level of independent happiness. As the old hymn goes, we know that whatever befalls us, Jesus walks with us and does well in leading us. So there ought to be a rootedness in our relationship with Jesus that allows us to enjoy a deep level of happiness, independent of the many trials and seasons of life that we undergo.
I do not often experience that rootedness. My happiness is highly dependent on things that change like Jeannie Zelasko’s hairstyle on Fox Baseball. (Sorry, low blow. I actually like her.) If the weather is good, if the Raiders won, if I catch the subway right on time . . . such insignificant things can mean the difference between a countenance that soars and one that flops. For someone who considers himself somewhat deep, I am awfully and embarrassingly shallow.
The very first psalm gives us the imagery of trees planted by water, whose roots are deep and whose trunks are thick. And so it is with the Christian whose relationship with Jesus is solid. I may never be independently wealthy, no matter how hard I try or how lucky I am. But if I invest in my spiritual roots, I can one day enjoy independent happiness. And as my wise friend would tell me, that’s a richer life.
Comments