Achieving Happiness

“For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin – real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one. Happiness is a journey not a destination.” 

Not sure who Alfred D. Souza is, but the quote is applicable to my life, so I’m using it.

I’m very goal driven. I have a task at hand, I work until it’s complete, and then I close it and move on to the next thing. Over and over and over.

So, lately, my task has been to achieve “happiness”….to achieve success, perfection, the ideal life, etc. etc. It’s my task, and I’ve been working hard to reach the ending point of finding positive emotions (i.e. happiness). And now I laugh, because that sounds so silly. Souza is absolutely right. Happiness is not a destination. Happiness is an emotion that comes on the way to the destination. And what is the destination? Well…that’s still to be determined. The church-girl answer would be “Jesus.” The old-Grace answer would be, “Perfection.” And while I believe both answers are correct, I think I need to travel the road a little more before I discover the actual destination.

Or maybe there isn’t a destination. Maybe my life will be this journey. And my destination is death. Isn’t that sort of the point? I go through life, enduring trials, with patience and joy, until Jesus calls me home. (A rough synopsis. I realize there is so much more to life, but life ultimately leads to death, no?) 

And also, if happiness is a journey, doesn’t that mean that disappointment, frustration, and anger are also a journey. It’s just that people don’t strive to attain disappointment. No one wants to focus on the bad. Only the good. But the bad aspects are just as much a part of the journey as the good aspects.

And what happens when you are on this journey, and you’re experiencing happiness and you’re thinking that your bent-out-of-shape life is finally taking a recognizable shape again, and then, it springs back out of shape because the people you were relying on didn’t hold up their end of the deal or didn’t believe in you. Then what?

This would be the hard part of the journey. And I think this is where we begin to think that happiness is a destination. Because, surely, feeling disappointment isn’t the final product. It must be the opposite of disappointment. Therefore, happiness. And thus, we conclude with happiness being the end goal.

Enough with the rambling.

It’s a journey. Life is. Positive and negative. Uphills and downhills. Joys and struggles. Embrace it all, because “time waits for no one.”

Changes

Have you ever noticed how trees don’t freak out when it’s time to change seasons? In the fall, the trees accept that their leaves will change colors. As we go deeper into the season and shift to winter, the trees let go of their leaves without defiance, even though it means unbecoming nakedness and vulnerability for the trees themselves. Perhaps trees hope in the knowledge of spring and regrowth, and that is why they release their leaves so easily. And perhaps spring is the blessing for being faithful. The trees experience renewal and growth throughout the spring and into the summer, as their leaves bud and blossom. But before they know it, it’s time to let go of their leaves (their beauty, their identity) again.

Or, think about the way trees react to wind: When the wind blows, the trees allow their leaves to rustle. And when the wind gets really strong and their branches are swaying back and forth, almost to the point of snapping, they remain calm. Their roots are firmly planted. Trees don’t get all up in arms when the wind blows.

Maybe trees are a parallel for how we should live our lives. Accepting change as part of the process. Trusting that even though things don’t look too good at the present moment, God will work things out and make us whole and beautiful again. We must keep our roots firmly planted. And not hold on to God’s gifts too tightly, because they can be taken away at any moment. Our identity should reflect Christ, not the leaves we wear so proudly.

“...that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.” Isaiah 61:3b

 In the changes and in the wind, God is working. And as He is working, our roots are getting deeper and stronger. Eventually we will grow into “oaks of righteousness.” Beautiful, strong trees. For the Lord.

But, I struggle with change. Who doesn’t? Yes, there are those of us out there that thrive on change and get restless when they are in one place for too long, but that is not true for me.

However, I do like to liven things up every once and a while. I don’t order the same thing at the restaurants I frequent and don’t like to park in the same parking spot. And I even enjoy changing my clothes.

I’ve learned it’s not necessarily change itself that I have a problem with. It’s the transition. Going through the change. Feeling comfortable before the change and freaking out while I’m trying to figure out how to settle into life after the change.

I’m learning that change is healthy. It’s a necessary part of life. If the trees didn’t go with the flow and accept the change, think how strange that would be! We wouldn’t have seasons! If trees crumbled at the faintest breeze, we would laugh, wouldn’t we? When wind (change) comes our way it is an opportunity to develop stronger roots and enjoy the ride.

I’ve been through a lot of change in the past six months. Actually, I’ve been through a lot of change in the past two and a half years. Change that I didn’t know how to handle because my roots were but thin little twigs.

In all of these months of too-much-change-not-handled-well, my roots have started to spread deeper in to the ground. And change is still coming at me. The wind is blowing. The seasons are changing. It’s time to rid myself of the old and embrace the new. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually.

Don’t we all go through a time in our life where we have to discover who we really are? Who we want to be, where we want to go? For some people, this process is more intense and difficult than others. But we all have to search and make decisions for ourselves and about ourselves. So it’s not like my story is all that strange and unheard of. Everyone has gone through this time of self-discovery. God just threw a couple extra twists and sped the wind up a little more for me. But I’m grateful He did, because it means that my roots are getting stronger and I’m slowly becoming an oak of righteousness. And in time, I’ll be ready for the wind to blow and the seasons to change.

His Knowledge. My Knowledge. My Belief.

Jesus knows firsthand what it feels like to be rejected.

Whoa.

Realization and wonder collide in my head.

Not only that, but He knows firsthand every feeling we have ever experienced.

It’s not like I’ve never heard this message before. I know this message forward and backward. But it hadn’t really “clicked” until today. 

Driving down the road. Singing.

Boom.

“You think you know what it feels like to be rejected, Grace? You will never experience rejection to the magnitude I experienced it.”

Stunned silence.

“You think you know what emotional pain feels like? You think you know all about the hardships and challenges of life? Oh, my child, I created those feelings and emotions. The good and the bad. I experienced every one of them. I know exactly how you feel.”

More stunned silence but this time with tears.

My problems are miniscule in light of what Jesus went through. It light of what others are going through. In light of eternity.

So I must embrace the challenges and trials and press on with gratitude. Because if Jesus hadn’t pressed on…well, let’s not go there.

Life is hard. But Jesus gets it.

And I realize some people might read this and think it’s a load of hogwash.

Others might read this and already know all of this in their head but not know any of it in their heart.

That was me. Until today.

God is slowly turning all of the knowledge stuck in my head into actual belief planted in my heart.

And for that, I am grateful.

Fine Arts In All Its Forms

I never considered myself to be much of an artist. As in, “a person who creates art: a person who is skilled at drawing, painting, etc.” Thank you Mr. Webster for that precise definition. I held a keen interest for the “fine arts” but believed that my avenue led to music. For years I studied it religiously, learning all I could about the fundamentals, the theory, the composers, the instruments. I was fascinated with it. Like a mathematician completing a longer-than-necessary problem, I believed my true niche was found in music.

Well, things change. Do they not? People grow, people experiment, and people learn that their interests either expand further in the direction they were heading, or they (people) take the nearest exit and transfer to a new highway.

At first, when the Cloud of Uncertainty gave way and the Rain of Doubt poured down on me, I took the first exit and high-tailed it off that interstate. But then I got into a horrible car wreck in terms of emotions. And I did not drive on any avenue, dirt road, or highway for quite some time.

But then my body healed from the “brutal accident." And my car was "repaired" and begging me to take a ride.  

So I did.

And in this ride that I’ve been on since my “car accident”, I have discovered so much about myself. And I’m exploring my previous interests and discovering that they are, in fact, expanding further in the direction they were heading.  

I like art. In all its forms. Music. Theatre. Dance. Art. Photography. Poetry. Prose. (Does blogging count? Kidding.)

It turns out that music is not the only road I have to travel on. I’m allowed to explore the whole neighborhood.

My favorite part about this “fine arts neighborhood” I’m currently residing in, is the freedom I have to create whatever my heart wants to create. I’m in charge here. There are no rules. If you don’t want to capitalize or use correct punctuation in your poem (e.e. cummings) then go for it. If you want to compose a completely bombastic, cutting-edge piece of music (Hector Berlioz) then be my guest.

Art is expression. Art is a mere whisper of the heart screaming at the top of its lungs.

 Listen. Feel. Observe. Reflect. Express. Create. 

North Carolina in the Fall

Doesn’t this time of year make you want to go outside and take pictures of every tree in sight? Fall is definitely something I took for granted before moving to Rwanda. This time of year is gorgeous. The cooler temperatures, the cloudless “Carolina-blue” sky, the color-changing trees, the leaves swirling on the road as a car whizzes by…it’s all so lovely.

Something Joe Fox (Tom Hanks) said in You’ve Got Mail comes to mind: “Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address.”

A bouquet of newly sharpened pencils. Trees changing color. Leaves swirling to the ground. It truly is “the simple things in life” that bring a smile to our faces.

Every now and then the artistic part of my artist personality comes out and I get the urge to create. I started by taking pictures of various leaves scattered about the yard…

 

And then I got really into it and painted a “pinky-print” tree…

I painted the tree with a brush and then used my pinky for the leaves.
And, no, this is not a Pintrest idea. 

 I used the leaves I had earlier collected and made a collage of sorts, but didn’t like the finished product, so I stripped the canvas and created this instead…

Like the leaves that are sent flying by a passing car, my life continues to chaotically fly around while a “car” drives by and then settle for a few moments, only to erupt into the mad swirling when the next “car” comes along. But, in time, the dead leaves will disappear and before I know it, I’ll begin to see new buds and growth on the trees…on my tree. 

Eclectic Thoughts

If I could play a song for you rather than surmise a post, I would. Which song would I play? Clair Matin by Paul JeanJean. It’s perfectly sweet and French and summarizes exactly how I’m feeling at the moment.

On that note (pun intended), today I assembled my clarinet and went so far as to play it! After nearly two months of silence, the reunion between musician and instrument was long overdue. Yes, I played Clair Matin, and it was as if my very self leapt out of my body and stood directly across from me and gently reminded me of who I am.

Ladies and Gentleman, I’m a performer. There’s no getting around it. Give me an audience and I’ll give you a show. Any day, anytime. I have been performing on various levels throughout my whole life.

The problem is, somewhere along the way, I forgot the difference between acting/performing at the appropriate time and acting/performing all day long, even when it wasn’t necessary. So, a façade was created and before I knew it I was locked into this performing contract that I know I didn’t sign.

I just recently discovered this about myself; that I didn’t know when to perform and when not to perform and suddenly my life came to a screeching halt. I began questioning everything I had known. What is true about me and what is merely the performance? Was I doing that just to maintain a good show or was I doing that because it was genuinely me?

Amidst all the questioning, the performer in me began to shrivel up and slowly die like a neglected flower.

And then my counselor asked me to think about the times in my life when I’ve felt most alive.  And the answer came to me so “matter of factly”: When I’m on the stage. Theatre. Recitals. Opportunities to be in front of people and perform. That is when I feel most alive.

So, I pulled my clarinet out of its case and played. And I was reminded of who I was. Who I am.

I want to explore this passion inside of me. This passion that has turned to embers. And I hope, in time, the embers will turn into a fire.

I want to perform. But more than that, I want to learn to distinguish “real life” from “performance life.” In performance life the show must always go on. And I’ve discovered that that statement doesn’t necessarily apply to real life. Sometimes in real life, the puzzle pieces end up scattered in a pile of mulch and you are forced to sort through them and determine which pieces fit your puzzle and which pieces must to be thrown out.

So that’s where I’m at right now. Sorting my puzzle pieces. Drinking poorly made African Tea on a beautiful fall day. Remembering who I was. Wondering who I will be. And feeling thankful. 

What is Grace Anyways?

Perhaps my blog name is more creative than I realized.

Ironically, it turns out that Grace needs grace. Of course, I've known that all along, but in these last few weeks that statement becomes truer and truer. 

Let's start with this: What is grace? Grace is God's gift(s) to us. It comes in many different forms. It can be a second chance, it can be a break, it can be beauty in nature. Grace can also come in the form of heartache because God can and will redeem everything for His glory. 

I've been searching for grace. Searching for joy. Searching for the key to living the best possible life.

In November 2011 God told me that His will for me was to "be joyful always, pray continually, and give thanks in all circumstances" (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). In the past few weeks God has been stirring that will inside of me and redefining it. I've discovered that in order to always be joyful, I have to start with giving thanks. Searching every single day for little things (and big things) that I am thankful for, brings me joy and then by experiencing that joy I turn around and give thanks to God. I'm still working on the praying continually part, but it's coming. 

I have been out of Africa for exactly 51 days. 51 long days. If I'm going to be honest with all of you who are sitting in front of your computer reading this post, I would have to say that my transition out of Africa and in to America has been far from easy. These 51 days have left me feeling drained. And left me searching. 

Searching for grace (Grace). Searching for joy. Searching for the key to living the best possible life. 

I usually try to get all my ducks in a row before I write a blog post, so that things flow smoothly and people leave the webpage feeling happy and refreshed. Actually, in general, I try to keep all my ducks in a row because I've found that life works best that way. But right now my ducks are scattered all around the pond. Normally, I would apologize for the scattering but I'm learning that sometimes "it's okay to not be okay." And, in order to keep my ducks in a row most of the time I have to stop being so concerned about everyone else's ducks and pay attention to my own. 

But with that being said, I must pose another question: Is there a such thing as over-serving? Can someone serve others so much that they neglect their own self? Is it a bad thing? Paul tells us to "not think of ourselves more highly than we ought" (Romans 12:3) and to "honor one another above ourselves" (Romans 12:10) and to be "like the scum of the world" (1 Corinthians 4:13) and be "all things to all people" (1 Corinthians 9:22). So then, how can we consider ourselves when we have been called to live like Jesus, a life of servant-hood?

All these things are rattling around in my brain and begging to be answered. And because I don't have the answers, my conclusion is lacking. But maybe it's okay to not have a solid conclusion because I haven't reached one yet...

-to be continued-