God Does Not Exist To Make You Happy

"And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose."
Romans 8:28

"God works all things together for my good."
Christian pop culture's interpretation of Romans 8:28

In recent months, I have found it extremely difficult to listen to Christian radio stations-- not because it's cheesy (though it often is) or because a lot of the songs sound the same (though they do), but because the messages are becoming more and more self serving, and less and less God centered, and, frankly, I can get a more musically diverse version of that on secular radio stations.

Here's what I mean: As I was driving home from the store today I flipped to the Christian station I usually listen to and heard the following lyrics: "God works all things together for my good."  Over and over and over again.  And all I could think was, 'actually, that's theologically inaccurate.' And it's been nagging me all day, not just because it's erroneous and I enjoy being a contrarian, but because it's a misconception that perpetuates a lot of even bigger misconceptions about who God is.

It's not just this song either. I hear the same thing in almost every other Christian song I hear lately-- maybe not always in the same way, but the underlying point is the same: God exists to work things out for my good, and our relationship is very much dependent on how I'm feeling.

And I can see why this mentality is a popular one; who wouldn't want God as their personal assistant? But it's a dangerous misconception that ultimately prevents you from seeing who God is, and eventually encourages disillusionment with God.

The idea that God exists to please you (or that He'll work everything out for your own personal good) is fine and dandy as long as everything is going well. You can shout alleluia's and post happy-go-lucky facebook statuses regarding how good He is to you. But what happens when something doesn't go well? If we believe that God is supposed to be working everything out for our good, it's easy to feel bitter toward God when something bad happens. But Christians have an answer for that, too. Instead of taking a step back and realizing that, just maybe, we've been misinterpreting this verse, we justify it in another way: God is just testing me; this pain will eventually lead to something better.

I don't believe that pain is a bridge to a happy ending. I don't believe that it was an original part of God's plan, and I don't believe He intentionally puts us through pain to achieve growth or to teach us a lesson. That's not to say that growing will always be easy, because it won't, but Christian's, as a rule of thumb, have a habit of assigning God's name to bad things and attaching Romans 8:28 to it for good measure-- as if to say, just trust in the end result.

All of this changes, however, when we take a deeper look at what Romans 8:28 actually says, because it isn't "He works all things together for my good."

Firstly, the Bible never says for YOUR good-- it says for the good of those who love Him. He's not referring to one person, necessarily, but to a group of people. And if you notice, the verse doesn't stop at "those who love Him," but continues on to say "those who are called according to His purpose." I know this verse is the center of way too much debate between Calvinists and Everyone Else, but here's how I see it: He will work things out for those who love Him, and who are working toward God's will.

Wait a minute, Val, that doesn't sound like God is promising me He'll ensure I score a recording contract/win the lottery/do whatever I want to do.

That's because He isn't; God promises a lot of things, but He doesn't promise to give you whatever you want. He doesn't even promise to always make you happy. This makes a lot more sense. Now, when something goes wrong, we're not as baffled as to why that is. We don't have to immediately wonder what part of God's plan this is-- maybe it wasn't a part of His plan at all. Maybe it's a result of the fact that we live in a fallen world, and so tragic, unfair things happen sometimes. Maybe it's just not what He's planning for your life, and therefore not the right thing. Maybe your motivation is a selfish one.

I'm not trying to say that the artist who wrote this song (don't even know who it was) doesn't understand what Romans 8:28 is actually saying, but he makes it easy for people who listen to his song to misinterpret it. And, honestly, it fits right into the current Christian culture, which only strives to understand God as it pertains to themselves.

There is a God outside your realm of perspective, and if you only ever try to see Him from where you're standing, you will only ever see a very limited God.

Happy Mother's Day

Some of you may have noticed that I don't make a habit of posting tons of pictures of Declan. This isn't because I don't take them, or even that I don't think to, but because every time I see something I want to capture and share, I'm a little disappointed when I look at the picture staring back up at me.

The number of times I see something in Declan that I want to capture-- to freeze and pocket and hold onto forever-- is not quantifiable. From the moment he was born, I've been trying to let other people see what I see when I look at my son; but I've given up.

Because I'm his Mommy, and it's the best thing I've ever been.  Because I'm his Mommy, and I think that means I get a window into the stolen precious moments God weaved into him before birth.

I don't post pictures of the way his hair curls around his ears when it's humid out, because you won't see it like I do.  I don't post pictures of the way he tilts his whole head back when he smiles.

I can't post a picture of the elated look of relief he gives me when I pick him up from the church nursery, or the way he bounces up and down in his crib when I walk into his room.

A video won't let you hear his laugh like I hear it-- so intense sometimes that he actually cries and has to stop to catch his breath.

You'll never get to see understanding dawn in his eyes when he learns something new. Not like I do.

Because I'm his Mommy, and it's the best thing I've ever been.

Part of me delights in this-- is happy that these things are all mine.  But a bigger part of me panics when I realize time doesn't stop for these moments-- time doesn't stop for anything.

And I know my memory will not go untouched or untainted by time's grip. And that one day these things won't be vivid in my mind like they are today. That one day he'll give that flirty grin to the woman he'll marry, and that the hand he reaches for when he's scared won't be mine.

So when I take a picture, almost greedy, almost hoping I can just keep one of these moments, I'm always disappointed.

And I don't even try anymore, because it's time wasted-- time I won't get back.

I can't hold onto these things anymore than I can hold onto water with my bare hands; but I can drink as deeply as I can while the moments still linger.

Happy Mother's Day to all you Moms who know what I'm talking about.

The Time Declan Was Almost Initiated Into A Sorority

A couple of weeks ago, Matt and I decided to take Declan to Virginia Tech's annual spring football game.  It's essentially a glorified scrimage, but it was a good opportunity to hang out with some friends, enjoy great weather, and get Declan into the stadium for free. (They charge full ticket price during the regular season, which is kind of ridiculous to me.)

We were lucky enough to find parking only a few minute's walk from the stadium, which doesn't always happen, but we were a little late, so decided to take a short cut.  This short cut happened to lead us right by your typical beat down, party on the lawn, bass shaking the windows type sorority house. (Or maybe it wasn't a sorority house, but there was definitely a pretty wild sorority party taking place.)

I guess they were just extremely exuberant for the spring game (again, glorified scrimage) because these girls were holding nothing back. And there seemed to be no shortage of a certain type of beverage, either. I jokingly (but not really, I was serious) told Matt that I doubted any of these people were planning on attending the game.

And I was right, because as we made our way back to the car, they were still there-- and the crowd was growing.  We're having a little bit of a laugh about this until I see them-- two entirely inebriated stumbling across the street toward the house.  We keep walking, only a few yards away from passing the house when one of them spots Declan who, in all fairness, was looking quite dashing that day.

It was like a tribal call: "Baaaaabyyyyyy!"

And that was all it took for about three or four of them to flock toward us. We tried to sidestep them, but to no avail. The only way to describe these girls are as follows: Drunk, Drunker, Drunkest, and How Are You Still Upright?

How Are You Still Upright: I love your baby. Like, LOVE your baby.

Me: Thanks. Me too.

Drunker: Seriously, cutest baby I've ever seen in my life.

Drunkest: Yeah, she's gorgeous.

Me: He's pretty cute.

How Are You Still Upright: Oh it's a he, guys, it's a HE.

She reaches a hand out to touch his face, at this point, and the only reason I don't stop her is because I'm busy contemplating the best ways to break her wrist if need be.  She actually reaches toward Matt as if to take him from her arms, and I'm about to throw down, when fortunately Drunk steps in.

Drunk: You are NOT picking up that baby, How Are You Still Standing.

How Are You Still Standing: (annoyed) I wasn't. I babysit, so I'm good. You don't have to worry.

And she says this like, five more times, as she continues to attempt to pet Declan's hair. Fortunately, I think her depth perception was off, because she's basically stroking the air.

How Are You Still Standing: Seriously, the girl I watch is (does a mental calculation) eleven months old? Yeah. So, yeah, I babysit. I'm serious.

Honestly, I hope you're not serious because that means, A) you're frequently in charge of another human life and, B) someone trusted you enough to put you in charge of a human life. This does little to put my mind at ease.

Drunk: So are you guys Hokies?

Me: He is, I'm not. (I'm just going to start telling people I am when they ask; they'll like me more.)

Drunk: Oh okay, but, like, you like, GET IT, right? I mean, you GET IT?

That you're drunk? Yes, got that a few minutes ago.

Me: Yep, I love it here.

Drunk: (think valley girl accent) Yeah, I love it here. I (expletive) love.it.here. And, like, I have to marry a TECH MAN (eyeballs Matt, who is holding Declan in one arm and my hand with the other.)

Me: Yeah... me too.

Drunkest: But like seriously--

Me: Well, we're going to go

Drunkest: Love your baby. She's so cute.

How Are You Still Standing is supremely confused-- she looks like she has already forgotten our entire conversation, and is unsure of who we are.  She moves as if to hug us, but we make our move and she misses.

How Are You Still Standing: Bye. Love you guys!

And that is how Declan was almost initiated into a sorority.

And also why he won't be going to college.