Skip to main content

Happily Ever After


My roommates left for Thanksgiving. It meant I got to spend time working on some research papers I’ve been putting off. Be impressed, I actually made progress.

The first night was pretty lame though. I did absolutely nothing to further my homework goals. I did, however, make a delicious dinner and have too much dessert. I then spent some quality time with Facebook and music. Lots and lots of music.

Before I turned off the tunes for the night, a chorus echoed through my room:

“Who’d like to know, I’d like to know.
Author of the moment, can you tell me, do I end up, do I end up happy?

Do I? Not going to lie, it was a pretty lonely evening. Not having the roommates around to catch my thoughts and throw them back.

Do I have to know how things end up? I would really like to know.

Most days.

Then again, this mystery has created some magic that my knowledge would have destroyed. In general, I like to know things: how things work, where something goes, what a word means, how someone feels, what they’re thinking, the things that make them tick. Everything. I just want to know.

Maybe it’s an evil genius thing. If I know I can control it and rule the world. Or at least know how to react.

Okay, so I’m just really insecure.

I would love a princess fairy tale – assuming I am the princess and not another side/evil character. I know life does not work that way – I’ve not been promised a castle. My mansion comes on the other side of death. Therefore I try to amass as much knowledge as I can to protect myself from whatever is coming. Because I don’t actually know what’s coming.

I don’t know how to respond most of the time.

I don’t know when the right time to ask is.

I’m never sure if I should go with my feelings or my reasoning.

I definitely don’t have a clue what anyone else is going to do.

So the chords bounce through my head – Do I end up happy?

And the answer I got today is who cares.

Happiness is cheap. Why would I strive for something so fleeting? I get joy. Everyday all the time. I have the privilege of living my life actively to give God glory. Everything I go through in this life is molding me to be more like him.

What is anything I go through in my twenties, thirties, forties, beyond, compared to the fifty trillion years and beyond I will be spending in perfection with Perfection Himself?

Nothing.

What I learn here is a shadow of what is there. What I know here is to make me more fit to live there.

If only I can remember to forget my own interests in favor of heaven’s as I continue in my desire to know…

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

First in Awhile

The past year or so I have been working with the youth group at the church I grew up in. Such an odd thing to wrap my mind around. The group that in so many ways formed who I am today is something I still get to be there for. Though now I'm the responsible one. The mature one. As our interim pastor says, "the one with all the answers." (He JOKES anyway).
I show up and help lead where I can. Because it's what is needed. And it's a calling I feel I have on my life. To work with young people, to help teach.
The irony is that my journey lately has taken me through a struggle with discipline. Becoming the person I need to be and doing the actions to get me there. I watch my husband and it seems so easy for him while for me often it's a battle ofbut I don't want to
And I have to admit comparisons have only intensified that feeling. It's so easy to sit back and deny what I ought to do in favor of what's right in front of me. 
But I've been so blessed w…

I am Redeemed

You set me free. I don’t have to be, That old man inside of me. I’m not who I used to be. Thank God, I’m redeemed.
I’ve loved this song since it was released. The simple truth I so often forget. I am redeemed. It’s basic. Essentially basic. But why can’t I remember?
So often I find myself slipping into my version of “that old man.” I listened to a sermon awhile ago and the pastor talked about how everyone goes through times of desert. Then he started talking to me.
Just make sure you aren’t keeping yourself in the desert any longer than you have to. Longer than you have to.
The phrase played in my mind like tacky wordart. Big, bright letters swirling into sentences. Into meaning. Into my life.
I don’t have to be like that. I don’t have to do that or hide there. I am redeemed. Bought back. Made better.
Set free.
Don’t keep yourself in that desert any longer than you have to be there.
There is a special kind of grace in this remembering. I get to realize all over again how thirst-que…

The SGB

Sensitive people get to me; in a negative way. I can’t stand the wishy-washy, back-and-forth mindset that seems to pervade their life. The “what ifs” and “if only I’d...” thoughts that consume, if slowly, entire lives, I cannot handle it. I have realized why:

The mass confusion, the chaotic retracing maybes devour me regularly.

Often I call it “stupid girl-brain.” And no, it isn’t always to do with a love interest, but 99 percent of the time it is about some sort of relationship (fam, friends, and love.) The stupid girl-brain has a habit of overanalyzing a situation, a sentence, a look, until every possible meaning has been taken out and looked into for accuracy – according to the stupid girl-brain. Sometimes this even includes adding expressions and words the SGB “knows” the other person meant. My baby sister would refer to this as a face palm moment and as much as I agree with her, I don’t know how to turn off my SGB.

Even as I write this I’m trying to imagine how the people I desp…