David C. Hughes, Writer

“For the LORD your God will bless you in all your harvest and in all the work of your hands, and your JOY will be complete." –Deuteronomy 16:15

Archive for the tag “Joy”

The Epiphany of Joy, Chapter 10: Joy in Our Calling (1 of 3)

We don’t do this for the money.  We do this because we love it.  The rest will follow.

–Amanda M. Thrasher, author and publisher

 

For the Lord your God will bless you in all your harvest and in all the work of your hands, and your joy will be complete.

–Deuteronomy 16:15b (NIV)

 

One cool November evening Mary and I invited Pastors Scott and Renee Crenshaw over to the house for grilled steaks.  After we finished dinner and enjoyed our slices of homemade Granny Smith apple pie slathered with equally homemade vanilla ice cream, I asked Scott, Senior Pastor at New River Fellowship in Hudson Oaks, Texas, if he considered himself living out his calling.  To me it was a rhetorical question; it was pretty obvious by the joy he exudes.

“I think so,” he responded, smiling and stroking his goatee.  “I really do.”  I nodded.  You see, I’d been struggling mightily with my calling for years, not so much in figuring out what my calling was–I knew exactly what it was–but with stepping out and answering that calling with a trust in God deep enough to pull the ejection handle on my tech job and parachute into a new career in writing.  I truly wanted to live out Goethe’s imperative, “Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.”  I’d only been at this writing thing fulltime for three months when I asked Scott the question.  The man obviously loves his job, and his spot-on sermons, his animated delivery, and his love for the flock he pastors reflect the passion, love, and joy he has in his calling.

“I was duck hunting one time,” he told me.  “It was freezing cold, I mean, it was miserable!  We got out there in the boat and we turned the heaters on and we’re waiting, and we got some poor dog sitting on the floor of the boat waiting to dive into the water.  And so we’re sitting there, and all throughout the morning, in the freezing cold, the water almost turned to ice, I’m hearing this sound, this thump-thump-thump-thump-thump, and I’m thinking ‘There must be an oil pump or something somewhere around here.’ Finally I realized it was that dog.  His tail was thumping.  What was he excited about?  He was excited about the moment when the guy goes ‘Cut ‘im!’ and the dog dives out into that freezing cold water.  But that’s what he’s made for.”  The Pastor laughed.

“And so at the end of the day I’m petting the dog and he’s living life, and I noticed his tail was literally bloody.  And the first thought that came to my mind was ‘God, that’s how I want to be.’  I call it bloody-tail passion.  I said, ‘I want to live in that.’”

I want to live in that . . . .  Who doesn’t?!  I want to be so caught up in fulfilling God’s will for me that I sit in the bottom of the boat, tail thumping, just waiting to explode with a bark of delight to scatter the ducks of joy all over Creation.  But so many people seem to just exist, to merely move through life joylessly, cowering like a beat dog, or floating around like a piece of driftwood on life’s ebb and flow, either never knowing their calling, or knowing their calling but never pursuing it out of fear.  And they seem unmotivated to do anything differently, like zombies going through the motions, dead but undead, losing body parts like hearts and souls along the way.  “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” philosopher George Santayana once said.  Those who cannot remember the past of their passions, those who cannot remember the past of what moved them, those who cannot remember the past of what brought joy into their hearts, all stand condemned by their own false truths, a parade of fools led by that king of lies: worldly security.

One of my deepest fears was getting to the end of life, looking back on not only what I’d accomplished but also the opportunities I’d passed up because of terror, and saying, “So what the hell was that all about?”  Rockford E. Toews, in his essay “One Less Accountant,” wrote, “Rather than purposefully living, the vast majority of people’s lives are little more than a series of reactions to events and forces outside themselves. That’s not truly living. That’s just survival. Yet most people willingly engage in simple survival today in the belief that they will get their chance at actual living tomorrow.  If they can earn enough money now surely they will be able to retire one day and enjoy life” (http://thoreau.eserver.org/oneless.html, retrieved 2/12/2014).

Jesus said as much in the Parable of the Rich Fool:

 

And he told them this parable: “The ground of a certain rich man yielded an abundant harvest. He thought to himself, ‘What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.’

“Then he said, ‘This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store my surplus grain. And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.”’

“But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’

 “This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God.”

              –Luke 12:16-21 NIV

 

Let me ask you something: Do you believe God wants you to actually enjoy the work He’s lined up for you  to do instead of being miserable in the job you’ve lined up for yourself to do?  Do you believe God has a plan for you, a gift of purpose tailor-made just for you, an avocation to live out with excitement, joy, and, dare I say, fun that will leave you breathless with wonder and smiling with contentment at the end of each day?  Do you believe God doesn’t intend for us to spend all of our energy chasing a dollar, but instead He intends for us to spend all of our energy chasing Him?

(continued)

Copyright ©2014 by David C. Hughes

The Epiphany of Joy, Chapter 9: Joy of a Child (3 of 3)

Children teach us flexibility, patience, and the ability to employ imagination on the fly.  One afternoon Mary and I watched Hannah put on a ballet demonstration in the middle of the living room floor.  She showed us the plié and the grand plié, followed by various numbered ballet positions.  Watching this precocious five-year-old’s little body flowing with her own internal rhythm and joy brought tears to my eyes.  She got hung up on ballet position #3, but instead of letting frustration stop her, she pursed her lips and said “I’ll just make it up.”  So she started with #1, flowed into #2, made up #3, and moved directly into #4.  I couldn’t speak for the longest time, even to tell her how proud I was of her.  Mary found her voice before I did and praised Hannah for her beautiful demonstration.  All I could do was nod in agreement.

Like I’ve said before, kids are like cats–they have one foot on earth and another in heaven (but with cats, the other two feet are in hell).  I’m convinced Hannah feels the pulse of heaven continuously, and she lives, moves, and has her being in a joyfulness that definitely defies circumstances (like her sometimes grumpy daddy and her sometimes impatient mommy).  When it comes to joy, Hannah is the teacher and we world-weary adults are the students–to watch her play house with her stuffed animals, to participate in an entire gymnastics competition outlined in chalk on the back porch, to try to outdo each other with made-up stories and improvised songs while in the car, to watch her entertain herself for hours with nothing but 300 pounds of sand in a weathered sandbox, a handful of old seashells, and a faded plastic shovel–that is a continual lesson on what it means to live out God’s Kingdom here on earth.

If only we beat-down adults could take it to heart and live the same way, wouldn’t life be so much more fun?  So filled with joy?  So much less serious and more heaven-like?  Joy in playing, in making up stories, in camping out in the back yard after gorging ourselves on s’mores.  Joy is in drawing and sculpting Play Dough creatures and building forts out of bar stools and blankets.  Joy convinced me I need to let go of fear and follow God’s calling to write–I’m in the sweet-spot of my experience, and Hannah is a catalyst for creativity, goofiness, and just plain having fun.   “Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger,” King David wrote in Psalm 8:2 (NIV).  What a better way to slap the devil silly than to belly laugh with a kid?

Jesus Himself said the Kingdom of God belongs to the children, or those who become child-like, not in immaturity and ignorance, but in wonder, trust, faith, and love.  In His day, children were widely considered to be second-class citizens in many cultures, so placing a child amongst Jesus and His disciples could be construed as offensive.  No wonder the disciples rebuked the people when they brought their kids to Him.  But Jesus was in the business of being offensive, peeling away layers of legalism to expose the underlying truth to free His children–all of His children–from the oppression of religiosity and the destructiveness of sin.  Allowing little children to be brought to Him illustrated God’s unconditional love regardless of age, affluence, or social status.  It also provided Jesus a teaching moment to instruct the disciples and those listening in the eternal benefits of embracing playfulness, spontaneity, trust in the Father’s providence, imagination, creativity, and joy.

These are the keys to heaven, both here on earth and in our legacy beyond.  Art Linkletter died in 2010 at age 97.  He made a career out of imagination and with interacting with children.  I’m convinced he knew the secret to joy.  “I’ve been around long enough to develop some insights,” he told the Orlando Sentinel in 2007, “Don’t retire, become a ‘seniorpreneur,’ keep a positive outlook, and maintain your sense of humor.”  Amen, brother Art.  Amen!

 

Copyright ©2014 by David C. Hughes

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