joy-guilt

I'm back! I feel like I haven't blogged in forever and a day! 

I have been so touched by messages from some of you- asking about the blog and whether I would be writing about the trip. I had initially planned on blogging during my travels, but it turned out to be a good thing for me be fully present and savor my time in Europe. That said, I was so moved to read that people actually are interested in the blog, my written musings. What a crazy thought. 

The trip was so, so lovely. The reunion with my sister was joyous and easy; no passionate tears were shed, but we were simply elated to be with one another again. It was natural, and we picked up right where we left off. 

For the first few days, Lau showed me her favorite places in her new city. She navigated Paris with ease and spoke with a hint of a French accent which she did not have before. She blended in with the beat of Paris, and I couldn't help but envy her familiarity with the Parisian arrondissements, bistros and lingo. 

Back together again, in Montmartre!

Our two dear friends ended up joining us later in our travels, and we had a lovely time exploring Normandy, Brittany, Bruges, Ghent and Brussels. But I will get back to the specifics in future blogposts. 

For now, I just want to write down a few thoughts I had during the trip about joy. I think the word 'joy' is thrown around a lot, especially in self-help psychology ("find your way to true joy") and our culture of individualistic consumerism ("do/ buy whatever brings you joy"). 

For many reasons, I have developed a kind of aversion to joy in recent years. I'll call it "joy-guilt," because that's really what it is; guilt. 

I am deeply, deeply grateful for my Christian heritage and upbringing. Somehow, however, I have misunderstood something about the heart of God and come to believe that Jesus' call for Christians to "carry their cross" and "humble thyself" means I shouldn't be joyful. 

Many aspects of Christian thought and culture, meshed with personal thought processes, have shaped this view. To name a few: 

• a fear of the prosperity gospel (personal happiness as the pursuit of my life rather than Christ Himself)
• a fear of feel-good Christianity ("God just wants you to be happy"- Osteen style... eeeesh)
• a strong emphasis on asceticism and martyrdom in the Christian tradition
• the evangelical call to avoid complacency at all costs (and subsequently equating personal joy with complacency)
• wanting to be in solidarity with those who are strugglin
• the call to identify with the sufferings of Christ (Philippians 3:10)
• the biblical principle of discomfort (taken a tad too far)
• the paradoxes of the Christian faith wherein the last will becomes the first, the meek will become strong (so, assumedly, the sad will become joyful right?)
• being guilt-driven and having a hard time understanding GRACE. 

I contend that my purpose on earth is not to pursue what makes me happy. Our individualistic, anti-authority, freedom-fetishizing culture tells us that "the pursuit of happiness" is our calling (not to mention our right!). As a Christian, I don't abide by that worldview. The pursuit of Christ and love for community and His Church will always take precedence over that ideal. 

Pointe du Raz, Bretagne. 

But I think I have taken this too far at times, and become legalistic about it. Until God nudged me on this trip. 

I was on a cliff in Brittany ("Bretagne"), France, when the thought occurred to me. The days leading up to this moment, I had felt guilty about being in France, about my job which allowed me to take 3 weeks off, about spending money on a leisure trip rather than some other greater purpose. 

But here I was, on a cliff overlooking the ocean and sky which meshed into one beautiful mess of blues. And the waves were crashing onto the rocks and the wind was blowing through the greenest grass I'd ever seen. And I could hear my friends laughing, and the sun was bright and the warm weather was as snug as a beloved blanket. And I was on this large cliff and was amazed, completely overwhelmed at how little I was and how big God is. 

I was happy. I felt deep joy. And I didn't feel guilty about it because it was so clearly a God-orchestrated moment of peace and goodness. 

It was hitting me that joy-guilt has sometimes led me to resist God's blessings. And while I should never take them for granted or claim ownership of them- I should remember that He is a good, good Father and He extends good, good gifts to His children. And we ought to enJOY them. 

Avoiding joy out of fear of becoming a complacent Christian is absurd and counter-productive. It's rooted in angst, guilt and, quite frankly, lies. I'm grateful I realized I need to abandon this pattern of thought and behavior before I become dogmatic about it. God had to bring me to the top of a cliff in France for me to understand that.  

I think I'll forever remember this moment where God reminded me He is a Father who delights in me, and gives me glimpses of the joy of the Kingdom that I can savor. 

And, with open hands, I will receive.