He works in obvious, mysterious ways
One thing I love about God is how much he talks to us. No, not the "burning bush" kind of talking, or, the angels coming in the middle of the night. The quiet whispers reach me more often than the special effects kind of visit that most people think of when considering God's interaction in their lives.
In the past month our church has been giving an awesome series of sermons on happiness. To be precise, the pursuit of happiness. I've blogged on this before, but, there have been some redefinitions and quite a few ahas as a result of the series. I want to devote an entire post to that all on its own. The main thing here is that unhappiness has been a companion of mine for some time. Not one I welcome, but, rather, seem to be burdened with on a rather permanent basis.
At the core of my unhappiness is I have come to sense that the path God has me on is not the want I want to be on. Indeed, a few months ago I had to accept the realization that I am an envious Christian. Not good. Amy and I used to go to the same church and we pursued a path down the road of prophetic ministry. Only, she actually got to go down that road while I was stopped and sent a different direction. I hold it not against her in any way. Frustration has been marking my every turn. I want, so badly, to be involved in the kind of things she does. However, I find, instead of grounding myself in a church where revelatory gift is the norm, it is the exception. Instead of getting more involved in what I sense my calling is, I grow bitter about struggling to survive my daily life. Instead of...well, you get the idea. Happiness has not been on my tongue. It has been on my heart however. I long for the joy that comes from not only accepting my position in life, but, praising God, from the depths of my being, for the blessing he has poured out upon me and my family.
So, here I stand. Looking around, wondering where to go. What to do. I am in a job that is good, but, I long for more. I am trying to find ways to help the company grow and become more of what I think I am supposed to be at the same time. Yet, even in this scenario God has hidden surprises for me on an almost daily basis. I work with a couple of guys who are all very sharp at what the do. While sitting at lunch with them I realized, I am very much in what I have been prepared to do! My grandfather was basically a network engineer at Bell South for 35 years. He was a technical wizard in all respects. Since I was a kid I never wanted to go down that road because technology reminded me of business and I hated business. I always wanted to be an artist, a musician, an athlete. Anything but a technologist or a business person. (And, guess what, I work in a technology business.)
At any rate, it became clear that, in spite of my unwillingness to receive the tremendous heritage my grandfather and my father have accumulated in the type of field I am in, I was among people that they would probably have been around. In a way, even though I tried not to end up becoming like them, I am. I am surrounded by people who are gifted with technology. It was a little light bulb to know that I was in a place where I would naturally fit even though I didn't plan or want it. God had led me where I probably should have been all along.
This little realization is one of those moments that stokes the very small flame of hope in my heart. I have come to realize that hope, the kind of hope that I saw and desired in almost every one else at the prophetic arena, typically has to be hyped up. People live in this frenzied "spiritual" state. It's a sort of hyper-real sense of God that is real, but, is extremely hard to cultivate in "normal" life. In a sense, that's why people who truly pursue that type of ministry become unlike the rest of us. At any rate, hearing God say, quietly in the midst of my grumbling, "You're where you're supposed to be and where you're supposed to have been all along" is humbling.
So, I have this one little theme going on in my spirit. A lightly rousing melody of hope. That was lunch. This morning, I have another little nudge. Many years ago I went to school in Memphis and they had a series of organizations that focused on social justice. Real activist types. While there I had an acquaintance who was odd. Gifted in many strange ways. At 18 a local musician. A writer. Counter cultural. He ended up getting a degree in math (my longed for degree). He had the acclaim of professors in spite of his not seeking it. I looked at him, 10 years later, and had a sense of envy.
That was it, envy. I still struggle with desire for things I don't have. Envy. I see this guy and see so much of what I wanted. Or think I wanted. Here I am, struggling to get by, struggling to find identity, struggling to keep my head above water. And I see this guy's picture, covered in tattoos, still walking down his road, calling his own shots, success in his wake. I, nobody, no where. Then, I see amidst my own blinding cloud of temporarily self-absorbed distraction, a wonderful life, my life. The fundamental problem is simple: how to want what I have, not what I don't have. Isn't that always it? We want something we don't have because we think it will bring us happiness. We think the grass on the other side of the fence is what will make us complete, what will make us happy.
But, the green grass theory only goes so far. It doesn't really propose an end. It just proposes another step in the process. Many people argue with Christians when they assert there is a beginning point, the unmoved mover. They don't want to have to accept this type of proposition because it forces them to ask, "Well, what is that?" This naturally leads to the issue of God. If you get people looking at now, at the future, it's a lot easier to get them to lose focus. People stuck in the middle of the fire cope with life. They don't embrace it. They don't grasp the moments they are being given. Instead they try to put themselves somewhere else, somewhere better than where they are then.
By pursing things, futures, better, green grasses, people never set a goal in mind. They find a means to happiness, the temporary fix, as being an end in and of itself, when God should be the end. Even in the moment, God should be the end, the absolute reference point by which we gauge our moors as well as our mores. Happiness, as Jesus shows us in the Beatitudes, doesn't come from getting high on the next best thing. I am beginning to suspect there is so much more to the blessedness we derive from being obedient it's scary. I see the inevitable and I just keep thinking, quietly, unspoken, even to my mind, how long can I put off the inevitable?
God waits for us to truly give Him the okay before we can be ready for Him to come to us. By chasing happiness, we all too often, like children trying to catch butterflies, are never where God can meet us. We have hopped up, run away and not given Him enough time to meet us where we were supposed to be when He asked us to wait. I've heard so many times that we are often the reason we don't progress in God more than we do. I know when I make decisions, almost every little decision to ignore, despise, reject, begrudge God. And, I can't even imagine how He still loves me in my rebellious state.
I pray God can give me the happiness he has in store, provided I am willing to let Him give it to me. I pray I let Him give it to me. I guess part of the mystery is how He can speak to us and yet we choose not to hear him, to turn a deaf ear. There is typically no mystery in God if we allow Him to speak; if we are honest with what He tells us and don't cover it up in smoke, mirrors and lies. It is in us that the mystery lies, why we choose not to live the way God's called us to. The mystery of living with sin and a God who loves us anyway. How can we reconcile this?
