Last Friday I went out of town to visit some friends. I was supposed to come back Saturday with my sister, but she stayed home sick, so I stayed until Sunday. Then I discovered I had Monday off somewhat unexpectedly, so I stayed another day. I stayed Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, calling home to cancel appointments. I'm happy here.
Happiness is an enigma to us. It's a temporary glow we bathe in, a thing we can't control. We have no recipe or formula for it. But when we feel it, how much would we give to stay happy? Especially me, who suffers from depression.
But then I wonder, should I be happy? Were people in the Bible happy? There are some horrific accounts of suffering in there I can't relate to. Some of the language used is extreme. And here I am, happy. Should I be? Is the Bible for happy people or suffering people? But we can't help it if we're born into history in a happy place at a happy time.
I do know this: I didn't get this way by focusing on my own happiness. One thing about happiness - if you look it square in the eye, it disappears. Maybe happiness is a by-product - it comes when you're doing things right, but you can't manufacture it.
"So I commend the enjoyment of life because nothing is better for a man under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun.
No one can comprehend what goes on under the sun. Despite all his efforts to search it out, man cannot discover its meaning."
Your servant,
BJ
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