Happiness

When I was a teenager, I promised myself that no matter how much money I had when I grew up, I wouldn’t make a big deal about it to other people or myself. I had been around people with quite a bit of money, and I saw that they were not necessarily happy. And I had been around people who didn’t have much money, but they weren’t happy either because they envied those who did have money. I determined then that money did not make people rich. God’s blessings make people rich, and a thankful attitude makes people feel rich.

I resolved, then, to always tell my children how rich we were and to always point out material and spiritual ways God blessed us. I don’t know how long it takes kids to figure out who has more money than whom (I’m guessing about the time they start visiting their friends’ houses), but I hope that when they do notice the difference, they also make the connection that their parents don’t measure riches in how much money they have or how big their house is compared to other people.

That was my theory, anyway. Now is the reality, and it’s tempting to wallow in self-pity about just how awful everything is. It’s tempting to resent those who complain about how terrible they have it and think, “You think you’ve got it bad, well listen to this.”

A few years ago, we visited an elderly couple from our church, and as they showed us around their beautiful home, the wife pointed out the picture above the couch. It was a drawing of a rickety old shack. There were holes in the windows and gaps in the wood, and it couldn’t have been any bigger than one small room. She said that she bought the picture because it looked exactly like the house she grew up in during the Great Depression. It reminded her that, even then, she and her family were happy because their happiness wasn’t dependent on where they lived. And even though she has this nice house now, it isn’t what makes her happy. Jesus is what makes her happy, and He has always been with her.

Some nights when Nathan wakes up four times before we go to bed because the lights are on and I sneeze or let the fridge door close a little too hard, I get frustrated and think, “If only we had a house with rooms….” Instead of joyfully helping him back to sleep which usually only takes a moment, I fret over our present circumstances and look forward to future days that will surely be better than this. I forget my blessings, my wealth, my happiness so quickly. (And seriously, helping a baby back to sleep? If that’s all I have to worry about, I think I’m doing a little more than OK.)

A blog post by Nancy Wilson really helped snap my attitude back to reality. We are blessed. We have so much more than we need. We have each other. We have a beautiful son. We have a home. We have parents and family who love us. We have a wonderful church. We have friends. We have a job that pays the bills and somehow even provides a little extra. And even if all of these things were taken away, we have a God who loves us so much that he sent us His Son to take away the sins of the world. This is the good life; this is the happy life.