Nothing ever prepares me for the breathtaking beauty of a sky right before dawn.
Even as the January wind causes me to pull my robe more tightly as I wait for my dog, I love to look at the stars. It is not because I know their scientific names or correct placement in the sky at different times of the year--I do not, but because they are always there. They steadfastly shine and decorate the sky with their beauty.
We can feel closer to each other knowing we are looking up at the sky at the same stars. Our gaze can connect over miles as we enjoy the beauty together.
Stars are God's nightlight when one leaves the comfort of the tent in the middle of the night in need of a tree. When camping in places without much light, stars shine all the more brilliantly.
As a child I would love to be the one who saw the first star come out, even before it was completely dark, so I could recite, "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight." Wishing on a star was as problematic as making a wish when it was time to blow out my birthday candles. Do I wish for something just for me? Or should I have the needs of others in mind? I knew I would not be able to enjoy something without sharing it so I was always trying to imagine how my wishes could benefit those around me, even though I did not truly know what others would wish for. More money? Newer stuff? More? All I ever wanted was to be happy and feel loved. Whatever that meant.
As I grew up, I was told happiness should not be pursued; joy is the gift from God we are seeking. Recently I was told it was just the opposite with happiness being the constant and joy the fleeting intense emotion. Then I read that joy and happiness are interchangeable. Even their definitions are similar. Joy is a feeling of great happiness. Happiness is the state of being happy. Happy is to feel pleasure. They all sound like a good day to me.
Perhaps where things went wrong is that pleasure is associated with sin by well-meaning Christian people who would rather err on the side of having no fun at all than to ever be accused of enjoying something too much, thus averting their eyes from their duty in life . . . which as far as I can tell has something to do with giving God glory. And how are we to do that without feelings of happiness?
I like to think of God as a joyful Creator quietly watching us, His creations, with the kind of joy a parent feels for his or her child. Of course that puts us at the toddler level as His ways are so much above ours. We are constantly at the learning stage, finding new ways to hold our sippy cups and climb onto small, padded structures without toppling over and landing on our noggins.
We are selfish but do not mind sharing if we can be convinced there are enough goldfish crackers for all of us. We love to explore nature, quickly discovering that sand does not taste as good as it looks. We get angry when someone takes our toys away and may even use our newly formed teeth as weapons. Our understanding is limited. We feel better when we take a nap.
No matter how fierce we may think we are as we raise our chubby fists to protest something we do not even understand, thinking momentarily we are in charge, at the end of the day we can rest in the arms of the One who loves us more than all of the stars in the sky.
Even as the January wind causes me to pull my robe more tightly as I wait for my dog, I love to look at the stars. It is not because I know their scientific names or correct placement in the sky at different times of the year--I do not, but because they are always there. They steadfastly shine and decorate the sky with their beauty.
We can feel closer to each other knowing we are looking up at the sky at the same stars. Our gaze can connect over miles as we enjoy the beauty together.
Stars are God's nightlight when one leaves the comfort of the tent in the middle of the night in need of a tree. When camping in places without much light, stars shine all the more brilliantly.
As a child I would love to be the one who saw the first star come out, even before it was completely dark, so I could recite, "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight." Wishing on a star was as problematic as making a wish when it was time to blow out my birthday candles. Do I wish for something just for me? Or should I have the needs of others in mind? I knew I would not be able to enjoy something without sharing it so I was always trying to imagine how my wishes could benefit those around me, even though I did not truly know what others would wish for. More money? Newer stuff? More? All I ever wanted was to be happy and feel loved. Whatever that meant.
As I grew up, I was told happiness should not be pursued; joy is the gift from God we are seeking. Recently I was told it was just the opposite with happiness being the constant and joy the fleeting intense emotion. Then I read that joy and happiness are interchangeable. Even their definitions are similar. Joy is a feeling of great happiness. Happiness is the state of being happy. Happy is to feel pleasure. They all sound like a good day to me.
Perhaps where things went wrong is that pleasure is associated with sin by well-meaning Christian people who would rather err on the side of having no fun at all than to ever be accused of enjoying something too much, thus averting their eyes from their duty in life . . . which as far as I can tell has something to do with giving God glory. And how are we to do that without feelings of happiness?
I like to think of God as a joyful Creator quietly watching us, His creations, with the kind of joy a parent feels for his or her child. Of course that puts us at the toddler level as His ways are so much above ours. We are constantly at the learning stage, finding new ways to hold our sippy cups and climb onto small, padded structures without toppling over and landing on our noggins.
We are selfish but do not mind sharing if we can be convinced there are enough goldfish crackers for all of us. We love to explore nature, quickly discovering that sand does not taste as good as it looks. We get angry when someone takes our toys away and may even use our newly formed teeth as weapons. Our understanding is limited. We feel better when we take a nap.
No matter how fierce we may think we are as we raise our chubby fists to protest something we do not even understand, thinking momentarily we are in charge, at the end of the day we can rest in the arms of the One who loves us more than all of the stars in the sky.
No comments:
Post a Comment