When 'Happy' Happens

I was about 8 years old when 'Happy' showed itself in tears, for the first time. I was at the Olympic Swim Club with my friend Kay, who was also 8 years old.  I recall that we weren’t allowed to actually swim in the pool that day, because the club was hosting a “Little Miss Olympic Contest.”  Of course, I had no clue what a pageant was or even that Kay’s mom had entered her in the contest.  I simply remember playing on the ladder in the deep end and dipping my toes into the forbidden water as the girls paraded down the diving board and back. Then a man’s voice came over the loud speaker and announced that Kay was “Little Miss Olympic!”  Suddenly, I was crying so much that my Mom came rushing over to see if I had been injured. It took me by surprise because I didn’t KNOW why I was crying. Then, I realized that I was completely happy … for Kay.

I’m looking forward to feeling that kind of happy again this weekend. My precious friend, Ladybug, is getting married.  Ladybug and I became friends years ago, through a church group.  One of the first times that we met over coffee, I remember her eyes filling with tears when she talked about how lonely she was. A single mother of three boys, she’d been through more than her share of hurdles and she was just about at the end of her rope. I tried to encourage her to hang on … to trust that God had someone wonderful in mind for her.  Fast forward several years, and here we are. 

One day during the wedding planning process last year, she expressed concern over the idea that maybe no one would show up for her big day. But I knew better. People want more ‘happy.’

Seems like most of us are just trying to keep our heads above water on any given day.  We deal with bills, car troubles, more bills, taxes, illnesses and work. We’re overcommitted, overburdened and overly exhausted.  We no longer have to wait for our daily dose of bad news from the 6 pm TV broadcasts, we get the doom and gloom streamed to us on the radio, our phones, through Twitter, Facebook and a myriad of other channels ... when all we really want is a little bit of ‘happy.’

Happiness is the package that comes with HOPE at its creamy, sweet center. Some of us look for those magic glimpses of it in goosebump-producing auditions on shows like X-Factor or American Idol. Sometimes we get a taste of it when our kids achieve a milestone as a result of hard work.  But overall, it can be pretty elusive.  Add to that the fact that we are egocentric beings and it becomes a rarity to REALLY feel completely happy for someone else. ("When is it MY turn?!")  I know I struggle with this kind of selfishness way, way too much.

My Mama has a saying that goes like this, “They have to know how much you care before they care how much you know.”  And I KNOW that Ladybug cares for me. She’s listened to me whine about stupid stuff many times. She’s loved me unconditionally when I was at my worst (and I've had far too many of those days than I care to recount). She’s been my best friend in every sense of the word.  So I am over-the-moon with Happy for her, this week.  On Saturday, I’m going to dance like a drunken fool and toast my precious friend, her new husband and the fact that she finally has a big, well deserved, fistful of Happy!

Palpable.

I consider myself to be a person of faith, yet it took me years to identify the palpable force behind the amazing things that happen in my life.

In fact, it was my younger sister who said (about our Mom), “She’s so in tune with the Holy Spirit.” I think about that force a lot. I think about it when I’m having a particularly bad day and a certain one of my friends calls (every time) and says, “Are you okay, sweetie? Something told me to call you.” Whoooaaa. How does she DO that?

I think about it after something worrisome keeps me awake at night and I finally give up trying to control it, say a little prayer and fall asleep. Then I wake up the next morning and it has been resolved.

You may call this coincidence or intuition, but it's MUCH bigger than that. I’m no expert at this stuff, but I’ve come to understand that the Holy Spirit is behind all things creative. It is inspiration. It is music, art, poetry, photography, dance and creativity. It is what moves us to tears of joy and compassion, to do humanitarian work and to fall in love. It moves us to be HEARD and not HERDED. (I saw that on a bumper sticker today. Love it.) It is what makes us march to the beat of our individual drummers.

But there are also dark forces that battle all that is good. Unfortunately, they too are palpable. Sometimes they manifest in the weird, like during a full moon when all the crazies come out. (Don’t believe me? Ask someone who works in the ER.) Other times, those forces are …well, just scary.

This afternoon, I felt something akin to a cold breeze of these forces blowing through. Within 10 minutes, I received some dark and disappointing news from three different and unrelated sources. (Two via unrelated text messages from different people I rarely hear from.) Coincidence? I guess I figure if you have to stop and question it, it’s more than coincidence. I won’t go into detail about those incidences except to say that I could FEEL the tide of my day change. And for the first time, I took stock at that moment. Deep breath. Sigh. Send up a little prayer for help. Search for the right words (and pray that I might be able to get my ego out of the way before I respond). Let go.

I know. You’re thinking I’m one of those new agey, touchy-feely, odd and freaky chicks. Or, at the very least, soapbox preachy. Maybe. But here’s what this all boils down to:

The older I get, the more I realize how very little control we have over anything. Or anyone. Some days feel like an epic battle between good and evil where all we can do is stand by and watch helplessly. My first instinct on those days is to run home, get into my jammies and hide under the blankets. (And maybe watch a Jane Austen movie, disappearing into a more genteel era.) But then I remember that my job … OUR job … is to trust. And to try and stand strong for all that is good for each and every sacred soul. There is a line from a great song that reminds me to hang in there:

“This is my Father’s world, oh and let me never forget, that though the wrong seems often so strong, God is the ruler yet.”

The Falling Down House

There is an abandoned house down the street that is falling down around itself. To be honest, it was never a pristine property– but it’s really looking sad now. Gutters are falling off, paint is peeling, the front porch is falling in and the grass and shrubs are overgrown. Tiny plastic toddler toys sit in the backyard waiting for some little people to come play. You can’t help but wonder the story behind the sad house when you see it. But I noticed something while walking by the house one night earlier this week. There is a wild rose bush on the south side of the house that has burst into blooms. Big pink roses cover the shrub as it reaches its beautiful branches in countless directions. This remarkable gift of nature is such a contrast against the falling down house. If someone lived here, the rose bush would be pruned. Controlled. Restrained.

There is someone I know that is facing an unforeseen tragedy that is painfully beyond anyone’s control. Despite it all, she is stoic. Controlled. Restrained. She soldiers on doing what she must do effectively and efficiently each day. Keeping everything in order. I want to throw my arms around her and give her a big hug. But protocol, our level of acquaintance and her manner of conduct forbid this. Mostly, I just want her to cry. I want her to give herself permission to be human.

It seems to me that we spend so much of our lives fighting back our emotions. Boys are raised to always “suck it up” and never cry—for fear of showing weakness. Girls today are taught to be competitive and grow tougher skin so as to succeed successfully in the workplace. Cultivating a “Poker Face” is considered to be a coveted skill. Funny how society keeps getting it wrong, huh?

If God had wanted us to go through life being stoic, restrained and controlled, he wouldn’t have given us emotions. Or tear ducts. There would be no need for community, friendship, families or love. And we would be missing all the best things this life holds.

Letting go is so scary. We don’t know for sure what will happen after the fall. But sometimes the only way beauty can bloom is when we stop restraining it and see where the branches extend.

Heavenly Hopes

I think Heaven must be, in part, a place of absence. Absence of evil, hatred and contempt, of course. But also absence of criticism and judgement of one another. No one ridiculing your ideas, opinions, shape, clothes, size, work, color, religion or creativity. Absence of egotism and self-centeredness.

Instead of being "all about me," it will be only about us. Talk about feeling like part of a team or community! We'll be part of a genuine, living breathing "oneness." Imagine everyone cheering your every effort. We will only be our collective best when we're working together, being our best individual selves--only we'll lose sight of being individuals because we're so completely filled with joy when the other guy is in his zone. No more being self-conscious. No more worrying about being the first or the best. No presidents. No CEOs. No Board of Directors. Just one King--with no replacements or wanna-bes. No one will ever feel like they are alone or that no one loves them. No one will ever feel like they are a loser or a "square peg," because they don't fit into society's round rules of engagement. We won't have to wonder. We won't have to ask. We'll just feel ... integral. All the time.

Instead of that thing we did when we were kids ..."Daddy, watch me. Daddy, watch me NOW! Daddy, watch me when I do THIS. Daddy, watch me when I add a twist and do THIS!" ... We'll just see Him smile and say, "I will never take my eyes off of you." And so we'll feel completely and utterly loved. Eternally.