A Life that Shapes
How gratitude and suffering might find friendship in an emotionally healthy spirituality
Have you ever wondered why toddlers are the way they are? I have–exasperated as I try to wipe the peanut butter off my son’s freshly laundered shirt after he used it as a napkin. I’ve also wondered it when my daughter’s first word out of her mouth when she doesn’t like my response is, “but…” with gusto. I wonder it each time I find strange piles of toys that weren’t so much played with as they were packed into a carrier receptacle and dumped in another part of the house, when a favorite food from yesterday becomes disgusting today, when they’re tired but they won’t sleep, and when they are so smart and yet so undeveloped at the same time. Why are they like this? When might I expect them to be less like this?
Maybe for you it’s not toddlers. Maybe it’s your spouse, your job, your church community, your pets, or any other combination of relationships, life circumstances, or material possessions that drive you to be dumbfounded, frustrated, and wishing for things to be different.
The natural response to discomfort in this life is to avoid it. Typically, when things feel like the tables are turning to be more unpleasant than rewarding, a trigger switch goes off in our internal psyche to get out of harm's way–to survive at all costs. Sometimes this looks like Instagram-scrolling while our kids watch TV, other times it looks like drinks after dinner. We all know what extreme forms of escaping hardship can look like, and we’d be naive to think that we’re above inching closer to those lines when we have an unhealthy relationship with grief, longing, despair, and overwhelm.
There’s probably a whole book to be written on the many directions this line of thinking can go, and you’ve probably read one or two. If they’re good, will you link them in the comments so we can all take a look?
But I have been pondering and reflecting on the nature of hardship for some time, especially in the life of someone renovating her faith, and I’ve found a goldmine in the scriptures that I’d like to walk us through over the next few days.
Recently, my husband and I were discussing difficult feelings and thoughts we were both having about our life. The conversation revealed uncomfortable truths about what’s been lying under the surface in each of our concepts of marriage, the church, and parenting. As generally joyful and hopeful people, this conversation was circling the realm of despair and it was uncomfortable for both of us. At some point, C looked up at me and lamented–I just don’t understand where the joy is. Why can’t we feel joyful?
And ever so gently, a thought landed in my spirit that could have only been from The Spirit himself, “Maybe joy is not the right benchmark to be seeking. Maybe, instead, we should be searching for peace.”
Yes, I know that joy is a fruit of the Spirit, and I know that there are umpteen scripture verses on the topic of joy. But, I also know that God is a God of process, and in seasons where a person is leaning on the ropes in despair, encouraging manufactured joy is not generally an effective strategy for actually increasing joy, at least not in my experience.
But, it was that one spoken thought placed in my heart by the Spirit that launched one of the most restorative Bible studies I've done in quite some time. The mention of peace reminded me of Philippians 4, and instead of just meditating on that one verse alone, I wanted to study the entire letter to the Philippian church. So often we can take one verse, and inject our cultural ideals into it to make a point. That had been done for me with Philippians 4, and other verses on joy and peace. Instead, I wanted to catch a glimpse of what Paul was really getting at when he wrote down those words. Does Paul align with the toxic positivity I’ve come to struggle with so deeply in the Western church? Or are his words more seasoned, more nuanced, and rich with gospel hope?
I think you and I both know Paul was not interested in toxic positivity, and so I’m excited to share with you over the next few days what I gleaned from the letter of Philippians. I found that this letter, so often reduced to “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength,” or “Whatever is true… think about such things,” is full of a much richer gospel truth that illuminates these verses far beyond what they are capable of when they stand alone.
If you’re in the midst of a difficult season, or have been recently, or want to soak yourself in gospel truths for someone you love walking in a difficult season, I hope you’ll join me. Sharing this study reflection with you in the week leading to Thanksgiving is intentional. After slowly working through each chapter in Philippians, we’ll finish with a guided meditation for a gratitude practice that leaves space for difficult emotions.
For those of us who for too long have tried to manufacture joy and gratitude by thinking of all of the things we have that others don’t (especially in November), I think this practice will land us closer to the heart of Christ than ever before.
So, be on the look out for a few emails from me in the next few days. As always, I’d love to hear how things are landing for you so please leave a comment or shoot me an email with any thoughts. I’m working on easing my way into Substack chat soon, too, so we’ll have another place to discuss these ideas together if you’re interested.
Love, love, love this 💖