Does God Want Us To Be Happy?

“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” (C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses).

Tonight at Kairos, Chris Brooks asked the age-old question, “Does God really want us to be happy?”

I admit that for years the answer has always been a knee-jerk version of “No, God doesn’t want us to be happy. He wants us to be holy.”

Maybe happiness and holiness aren’t mutually exclusive. Maybe holiness doesn’t have to mean a dour demeanor and grumpy face. Perhaps there is happiness in enjoying God and His good gifts.

The problem isn’t in seeking happiness but that we seek for it in the wrong places. We seek to find fulfillment and joy in the created rather than in the Creator, and in the gifts rather than in the Giver.

It’s not that we desire too much but that we desire too little. We can glorify and make an idol out of just about anything (or anyone). Careers, possessions, relationships, children, morality, and even worship (more accurately, the worship of worship and the adrenaline rush it brings).

We can’t seek happiness and joy outside of God because it doesn’t really exist. At least not true happiness and joy. We often end up over-stimulated and under-satisfied. Nothing apart from God brings a lasting gratification.

That’s why there’s always the push to do more, buy more, consume more, and be more. It will never be enough.

God is enough and in Him are joys and pleasures and happiness that will never end.

 

More Than You Can Handle

The old saying goes like this: God will never give you more than you can handle.

It sounds good. It sounds biblical. The only problem is that it’s not.

1 Corinthians 10:13 says that God will not let you be tempted beyond what you are able to bear, but will provide a way out, so that you may be able to endure.

The key difference, as Chris Brooks explained tonight in Kairos, is that we are often given more than we can handle by ourselves. Our strength lies in community and our ability to endure rests in fellowship.

If God never gave me as an individual more than I could handle, I’d more than likely slip into self-righteousness and be completely lacking in grace toward others who are struggling. I wouldn’t know the sweet communion that comes from prayers of desperation and surrender. As it is, God often allows me to go through circumstances and situations that force me to rely on God’s sustaining strength and the combined power of community.

The problem with God never giving me more than I can handle is that if I’m struggling, then the fault must lie with me. I must not have enough faith. I must be doing it wrong.

Even the apostle Paul and his companions went through situations that were beyond their ability to bear. Paul himself was given a thorn in his flesh that he begged God to remove, but God declared that His strength would be made perfect in Paul’s very weakness he felt he could not endure.

I love what Chris said. He said that yes, God will give you more than you can bear. He will give you more grace, more love, and more mercy than you can handle. Not only that, but His mercies and grace will be new every morning.

I confess that God Himself is more than I can handle sometimes. If I could completely comprehend and grasp all that is the Eternal Mystery with my finite understanding, then what I am beholding isn’t the Infinite God but a god of my own creation.

God is so much more than anything I could dream up or imagine on my own. He’s big enough for whatever is too much for me to handle and strong enough to get me through what I cannot bear and tender enough to surround me with those who will be able to bear with me through seasons of trial and temptation.

 

Going Before

I drove home with the windows rolled down for the first time in months. The night air on my face felt like a caress. I had Lori McKenna’s Numbered Doors playing. It was a perfect summer moment.

I’ve been thinking about what Audrey Brooks, the speaker and wife of Kairos Pastor Chris Brooks said. The Good Shepherd will never lead us to a place where He has not already gone before and made a way.

The more I as a sheep learn to hear and recognize the voice of my Shepherd, the more I know that His heart for me and His plans toward me are good. The more I know that I can trust Him without reservation, knowing He will not lead me astray. The more I can trust Him with my loved ones.

Being called a sheep isn’t a compliment. The more I learn about sheep, the more I realize that left to themselves, they won’t end up anywhere good. They can be easily led astray by enticing voices. I find that too often I can relate to stupid sheep.

I’m thankful for a patient Shepherd who keeps calling after me, who keeps reminding me of my identity, who persists in guiding me in the right paths that lead to rest and healing.

There’s not a valley so dark that I will go through where He has not already been through and come out on the other side victorious. He can and will lead us safely through.

“Experience has taught me that the Shepherd is far more willing to show His sheep the path than the sheep are to follow. He is endlessly merciful, patient, tender, and loving. If we, His stupid and wayward sheep, really want to be led, we will without fail be led. Of that I am sure” (Elizabeth Elliot).

 

A Great Definition of Repentence

“Repentance means turning from as much as you know of your sin to give as much as you know of yourself to as much as you know of your God, and as our knowledge grows at these three points so our practice of repentance has to be enlarged” (J. I. Packer).

That’s it. I think for the longest time I figured that repentance was turning away from what I was doing wrong. It was ceasing to sin.

That’s only half the story. As a friend of mine once told me, you turn away from a sinful behavior, but you also turn toward something positive to replace the old bad habit.

Otherwise you end up like the man in the parable told by Jesus who had been possessed but did nothing to fill the void. He ended up worse off than he was before.

If you don’t replace the sinful behavior with a good and godly discipline, you will simply replace it with another bad or worse habit. The best example that comes to mind is the people at an AA meeting who are chain-smoking. They gave up one habit only to replace it with another.

As my pastor says often, repentance isn’t beating yourself up. It isn’t feeling bad about what you’ve done. It’s like driving in your car one way, doing a 180, and driving the other way. You turn from sin to God.

The older I get, the more I see how much I need to repent from. I also see that even my repentance is a gift from God. I see that God isn’t hovering over me, ready to berate me for my foolish behavior and poor choices. He’s wanting me to claim my true identity not as a sinner but as a child of God.

The more I see myself the way God does, the more I live out of victory instead of defeat. The more I live out of grace and obedience instead of sin and despair.

 

Two Different Kinds of Prayer

I’ve been mulling over what I heard from Chris Brooks at Kairos tonight. He spoke from Luke 18:9-14 about two men who went to the temple and offered two vastly different prayers to God.

One was very devout. He said all the right words and spoke out of a life that was consumed with faithfulness and devotion. He went above and beyond the minimum requirement. In terms of what most people look for, he was the model picture of faith. But God didn’t heed his prayer.

The other was a scoundrel. He knew it. His prayer was less of an exercise in devotion and more of a cry from the core of his being, almost a primal scream. “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” was his repeated refrain and his anguish took the form of beating his own chest while echoing a mantra of desperation. His is the prayer God heeded.

I’ve been guilty of trying to impress God with flowery language and pious phrases when what He really looked for from my prayers was transparency and honesty. What He longed for from me was my soul laid bare and my deepest sighs and groans laid at His feet.

I’m still figuring out the whole prayer thing. A lot of the time I feel like I’m praying to the ceiling, airing out my laundry list of wants and needs, and reciting rote words that sound and feel hollow and empty.

Sometimes, the best prayers are the shortest. A lot of the prayers that moved Jesus to action were less than ten words– “Have mercy on me, Son of David,” “I belief, help my unbelief,” “Remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”

What matters most is not what you say or don’t say to God, but an attitude of confession and repentance with a heart willing to listen and to obey whatever Jesus asks.

What matters more than what we pray or when we pray or how we pray is that we pray. I believe God honors the earnest prayer offered in faith, even if the words aren’t right (or even if there are no words at all).

Just pray.

 

Feeding the Multitudes: Inspired by Tonight’s Kairos Message

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Jesus said something that struck me as a bit odd during the account of the first feeding of the 5,000. When the disciples asked how they were to feed all the multitudes who had followed Jesus, Jesus said to them, “You feed them.”

On the surface, it seems strange that Jesus should ask such a monumental task of 12 men to feed what probably amounted to 20,000 people (counting women and children). Why would Jesus ask that?

I think what Jesus wanted was their willingness to sacrifice whatever they held in their hands for the work of Jesus. In this case, it was two fishes and five loaves given to them by a small boy. It was at the same time a sacrifice and a confession of woeful inadequacy.

That was what Jesus blessed and multiplied to minister to the many.

In this day and age, many of us are praying for peace. We ask that Jesus step in and make peace by bringing unity to the racial tensions and strife.

Jesus says to us in turn, “You go and make peace.”

“How?” we ask.

“What do you have in your hand?” Jesus asks us.

“Not much. Not nearly enough to accomplish reconciliation. But whatever I have is Yours. I give it to You.”

What Jesus is looking for in us isn’t extraordinary ability but unconditional availability. What He asks from us isn’t great acts or passionate speeches. What He asks for from us is our very selves.

That’s where the miracle begins.

 

A Good Night

So I inadvertently recycled my sunglasses tonight.

I was in the process of depositing several plastic bottles into one of the recycle containers in the Connection Center of Brentwood Baptist Church (also known as The Place Where They Have Kairos on Tuesdays).

I’m still not exactly sure of the order of events (or even 100% positive of the sunglasses part) but I believe that when I bent down to beautify the planet by not adding to the already overflowing landfills and being green and all that, my sunglasses slipped off my shirt and into the container (along with one unopened water bottle that I fully intended to drink).

Something a guy I work with came to mind: if that’s the worst thing that happens to me tonight, I’m having a good night.

Later, the main speaker, Chris Brooks, said something that arrested my attention. He said that while emotions can be very real, they aren’t always reliable. Immediately, my mind went to Jeremiah 17:9 where the heart, the seat of all emotions, is described as “most devious and incurably sick.”

I’ve learned that one the hard way over the years. Trial and error have taught me never to trust my emotions when I’m fatigued or hungry (and especially not when it’s a combination of the two).

While feelings can be legitimate, they can be misleading. I remember something a friend said once that I’ve never forgotten– feelings can lie to you, so you go with what you know.

In my case, I remember that Jesus promised that everything would turn out fine in the end (and if it’s not fine, it’s not yet the end). Jesus promised that He’d work all things together for good. Jesus promised never to leave or forsake me.

I cling to these promises when my feelings tell me they have failed. I hold fast to what Jesus said over what I feel because while my feelings come and go, Jesus’ words are eternal and secure.

I ended up making a late night run to Kroger’s and picking up another pair of shades just like the ones I accidentally discarded. Next time, I hope I’ll be a little less careless when saving the planet.

 

What Makes Someone Attractive

I heard something at Kairos that impacted me in a powerful way– looks will make you look, but they are not what make you attractive. What makes you attractive is who you are, your character, at the deepest level.

Your attractiveness comes from how much you serve and invest in those around you. It’s about how you pour your life into your friends and family. The most beautiful thing about a person is a servant’s heart shining through.

If all your relationships are based on is looks and appearances, you’re destined for a series of shallow, skin-deep relationships that can never satisfy the deep hunger within. The best relationships are born out of being deeply loved by God and serving out of the vast overflow of that love.

True love is always others-centered. It’s counter-cultural in a culture that defines love with a “what can do you for me?” kind of attitude.

If you look at love at its best and the ultimate example of attractiveness, look at the cross. Look at Jesus forgiving those who put Him up there. Look at the most extraordinary example of sacrifice in history.

2,000 years later, no one can deny that that pivotal moment completely altered history and civilization. People are still drawn to images of Jesus hanging on that cross for love of you and me.

In an age where it’s all about “taking care of me first” and “looking out for number one,” the most attractive thing you can do is to serve someone with no other ulterior motive than for the joy of giving. The way you invest in those around you with no expectation of them ever returning the favor is what makes you beautiful.

You are never more like Jesus than when you wash the feet of others, when you serve the least of these. There can be nothing more attractive than that.

 

While You’re Here

I heard something tonight at Kairos that got me thinking.

Basically, the main speaker, Chris Brooks, was speaking of relationships and said something to the effect that one of the things a woman should look for in a man is how he is investing in his friends and giving himself away for those he loves. Chris said that true love doesn’t wait in the sense that you don’t wait until you’ve found that special someone to become the right person.

Maybe that applies to more than just relationships.

Perhaps you’re in a job that’s not your dream job. Work as though it were your dream job and give your absolute best every single day, and maybe one day a door will open for you to find your dream job.

Maybe you’re in a season of life that isn’t where you thought you would have been in by now. Learn to embrace your circumstances and find the joys in each day of living– including the ultimate gift of being alive.

Don’t mark time while you wait the next phase of life. Be the best possible you, trust God as fully as you know how, and leave the results to Him. Do everything in your power to make the small world around you, and the people in it, better for your having been there.

There is no rewind on the remote control of life. You don’t ever get to go back and relive a moment once it’s gone. The key is to live each moment while it’s still in the present rather than looking ahead to what may be or looking back to what might have been.

In the Bible, Ruth didn’t waste time chasing down her Boaz. She was faithful where she was to the one she was with– her mother-in-law. She loved and served  the person right in front of her with everything she had.

I can think of no better example of how to live in a season of waiting.

 

You Matter

If you haven’t heard it from anyone else all day, hear it from me: you matter.

Even when you feel alone and neglected in the middle of a crowd, you matter.

Even when it seems no one wants to bother to get to know you or your story, you matter.

Even when you don’t feel like you have anything to contribute, you matter.

Hear it again– you matter.

God made you with a unique blend of talents and passions and designed you to play a part that no one else but you can play.

You have a story to tell that at least one somebody out there needs to hear– even if some days that one somebody is you.

Even in the midst of your worst pain, God sees you. He has not forgotten you. He has not abandoned you.

Even when it seems no one notices or cares about you, the right people will. There will always be someone who will encourage you and support you (and even sometimes rebuke you in love if needed).

Maybe your job is to look up and look around. Look for the ones on the periphery who look out of place. Look for the ones on the outside who don’t feel like they have anybody on their side or anyone who even knows they’re alive.

Perhaps all it will take is a smile and a kind word. It could be that simply sitting and listening is all it will take.

Remember that as the body of Christ, we’re all in this together. If I don’t work right or you don’t work right, we don’t work right. It’s that simple.

So to be obnoxious and repeat what I’ve already said, let me say it again– you still matter. I will keep repeating it and restating it until you finally start to believe it about yourself and those around you.

You matter.