Last year I wrote this post. I don’t know why I never published it, but I opened the draft today and wondered, “Could this be relatable to someone out there?” I’m not sure, and I am personally in a very different stage of life right now, but I thought perhaps it could be worth posting. Please enjoy and God bless. 🙂
Right now I am listening to God. I didn’t know I needed it this morning, but now I know I did.
When I notice my sadness, it makes me worry–have I done this to myself? Have I not made the right choices, prioritized the right things?
I can’t help but think unhappy means bad, somehow morally wrong. Maybe it’s because every American movie has the “good” hero with a happy ending and the “bad” villain with a demise. That’s what we want to happen–we want to be able to be good enough to ensure goodness happening to us. We want justice for the evil deeds, but only when they’re done by someone else. As if that’s how any of this works.
I feel disappointed in myself for not being as happy as I was… say, a month ago… It’s silly but I feel like it reflects on my character. What am I doing wrong! If this train of thought was true, then Jesus would’ve been bad to die on a cross for us because I’m sure it wasn’t happy, no matter how much He did it for the joy set before Him (to be with us forever).
Still, it hurts. I’m disappointed in myself for feeling unhappy, even though I should be thankful for what God has done, for how God has brought me through. I should be thankful regardless of my unhappiness.
But this morning, as I opened my heart to God, this is what I heard first:
You have more hope now.
I felt so warm. Happiness is not the only measure of experience, and I don’t need to worry about that. Don’t I see what God has given me? Maybe things are more stressful now, less exciting. But look at what has been growing inside of me: hope.
And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.Romans 5:5
I don’t need to worry about being happy, but I do have the privilege of rejoicing in having hope. I don’t need to cover up the bad either. I also felt God whisper this to me:
I love you. As a vase broken, your cracks will be filled with gold. I didn’t plan these bad things happening to you. But I will make beauty out of ashes.
This is my hope. Not that I won’t be broken, but that God will transform my brokenness into beauty. In the ways I am crushed, I will be recreated.