A Sparrow's Selah

“And now I am happy all the day!”

“And I’m so happy, so very happy
I’ve got the love of Jesus in my heart
Down in my heart.
And I’m so happy, so very happy
I’ve got the love of Jesus in my heart.”

Two separate songs, but they have the same concept here. They are both coming in with the idea that, now that we are Christians, we will be happy. Not only happy, but happy all the day! I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a contradiction to what we saw when we were studying the Psalms two entries back.

So, what gives? Could it be broken theology, a lack of understanding, or did it just sound good in the song? Or am I actually supposed to be happy all the day? Is it a me problem? I am going to argue against the idea that we are supposed to be “happy all the day” by, yet again, pointing to the Psalms for that answer. Because this is sounding like fake news to me.

Throughout the Psalms, we see plenty of evidence that Christians won’t be happy all the time, nor does God expect that of us. Let’s remind ourselves that the Psalms taught us how to bring our joy and thankfulness to God, but also our lament, anger, and grief.

At night, do you ever find yourself so completely distraught that you lie awake, unable to sleep, soaking your pillows with your tears? I know I have. If you have too, we are in good company. David said in Psalm 6:
“Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger;
do not discipline me in your wrath.
² Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am weak;
heal me, Lord, for my bones are shaking;
³ my whole being is shaken with terror.
And you, Lord—how long?

⁴ Turn, Lord! Rescue me;
save me because of your faithful love.
⁵ For there is no remembrance of you in death;
who can thank you in Sheol?

⁶ I am weary from my groaning;
with my tears I dampen my bed
and drench my couch every night.
⁷ My eyes are swollen from grief;
they grow old because of all my enemies.

Not once do you see God entering into this chapter and rebuking David for his honest prayers. He did not interject. He stays and listens to David’s groaning and cries. Even David notices this as he goes on to say:
“Depart from me, all evildoers,
for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping.
⁹ The Lord has heard my plea for help;
the Lord accepts my prayer.
¹⁰ All my enemies will be ashamed and shake with terror;
they will turn back and suddenly be disgraced.”

God did not merely hear his prayer. David realized that God also heard his weeping! He heard David when he was at his messiest. And did David feel as if he needed to ask God’s forgiveness for going to Him in that state? Absolutely not.

This thought reminds me of Matthew 11:28. It says, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Even though this verse was written after David’s time, David still knew this truth about our God. He knew he could bring his sorrows to God’s feet. You can see the transition happen as David realizes that God heard his prayer. The tone changes. It goes from groaning, weeping, and fear to “The Lord has heard my plea”, and then to “All my enemies will be ashamed and shake with terror.” David gained confidence in knowing that God heard him and that God was in control of the situation.

We don’t see that his circumstances changed right away, and we don’t see in his tone that David automatically became happy. We don’t see his grief completely vanishing, but he found a reaffirmed confidence in God’s presence in the middle of it. I can’t speak for David, but when I gain confidence, I find a joy that I didn’t have earlier. Sometimes, even after finding that confidence, if joy doesn’t find me, I dust myself off, get up, and choose joy. Happiness usually doesn’t come into that equation, but joy certainly does. We can actively see this choice to change perspective multiple times throughout the Psalms. In Psalm 42 we find the psalmist in great despair and longing for God.
¹ As a deer longs for flowing streams,
so I long for you, God.
² I thirst for God, the living God.
When can I come and appear before God?
³ My tears have been my food day and night,
while all day long people say to me,
“Where is your God?”
⁴ I remember this as I pour out my heart:
how I walked with many,
leading the festive procession to the house of God,
with joyful and thankful shouts.

⁵ Why, my soul, are you so dejected?
Why are you in such turmoil?
Put your hope in God, for I will still praise him,
my Savior and my God.
⁶ I am deeply depressed;
therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan
and the peaks of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.
⁷ Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your breakers and your billows have swept over me.
⁸ The Lord will send his faithful love by day;
his song will be with me in the night—
a prayer to the God of my life.

⁹ I will say to God, my rock,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about in sorrow
because of the enemy’s oppression?”
¹⁰ My adversaries taunt me,
as if crushing my bones,
while all day long they say to me,
“Where is your God?”
¹¹ Why, my soul, are you so dejected?
Why are you in such turmoil?
Put your hope in God, for I will still praise him,
my Savior and my God.

The psalmist sits with his pain, tells God about it, makes an active choice to remind himself of what God does and who He is, and tells himself to “Put your hope in God, for I will still praise him.” Despite how he felt, he chose to praise and put his hope in the Lord. He did not invalidate his feelings. Instead, he acknowledged every single emotion he felt at that moment. He gave himself space to walk through those feelings, but he didn’t remain there. He redirected his thoughts to the God who was still worthy of his praise.

This is not a one-and-done decision. Choosing is actively making the choice not to let how we feel govern how we think. We cannot follow our hearts because the heart is deceitful (Jeremiah 17:9). Our feelings are also constantly changing like the seasons. Sometimes those changing seasons are like the seasons in the South, where you can have all the seasons in one day.

I also bring up the Psalms again, because I had mentioned that I found different layers to the Psalms. We know it is a songbook for our different seasons. It also shows us how to capture our thoughts, put our hope in God, and choose joy. I was reminded yet again of how we openly struggle and bring those emotions to God.

Every time the psalmist did that, I would highlight that section in green. But then every time the psalmist said something like “But God”, started turning his mind toward God, or started thanking God for the things he had done in the past or the hope he had for the future despite how he felt, I would highlight that in yellow. It is a visual reminder that the Psalms give us space to feel everything that is highlighted in green, but they repeatedly bring our thoughts back to the truths that are highlighted in yellow.

I will forever do this for any new Bible I get in the future because this practice has been a game changer in how I view my emotions and seasons. It has taught me to purposefully notice the “But God” moments in my own life.

Selah

Emotions are not bad, and they are not of the devil. Jesus had emotions…clearly. “Jesus wept.” Jesus experienced righteous anger, which had Him flipping tables of the money changers in the temple. Jesus experienced such anguish in the Garden of Gethsemane that Luke tells us, “His sweat became like drops of blood falling to the ground.” All of that to say, what we do with those emotions is the distinction. Emotions are very real and a fantastic tool because they can be the check engine light to the soul. Are you feeling depressed, constantly angry, or bitter? Take time to look inward and ask why. Bring it to God. Bring it to a friend, confidant, a counselor, a therapist, someone who will help you work through those emotions. Find someone who will help you see where those emotions are coming from while also helping you redirect your mind back toward God so that those emotions don’t become the governor of your life or sit in the driver’s seat. Many can pinpoint why they feel the way they do, and this still applies. Please don’t walk through it alone.

A few years ago, I had a tattoo idea to be a permanent reminder to myself of this concept. My brother and I had a discussion about what this tattoo would mean and the story behind it. He took some time with everything that we discussed and began to sketch out the design that I then brought to my tattoo artist. Every aspect of this piece tells a story. The design is actually incorporated into the image at the beginning of this entry. The story can only be fully seen and understood if I describe it, which I did on purpose in hopes that someone would be curious enough to ask about it. And they have.

There is a sparrow, because we already know that I love sparrows. The sparrow is origami, because it is a reminder that everything that I have gone through has been used to shape me to be more Christlike. It is not unlike the illustration of God as the Potter and us the clay. With origami, there is a repetition of folding, pressing, and shaping until the paper is formed. If you unfold the paper, you will reveal wrinkled paper. It will never be flat again, but because of those creases, it will be far easier to fold it all back together into the shape it was meant to be. None of it is wasted, and none of it is in vain.

The sparrow is also perched, resting on a vine. This is a picture of how I need to be resting in the Father. I am also reminded that if He sees and cares for the sparrow, He does even more for me. Then I have “Choose Joy” over this picture. The truth represented in this whole picture is a lasting reminder of why and how I can choose joy.

Choosing joy doesn’t mean that I am pretending that the folds and wrinkles in my life aren’t there. It also doesn’t mean that the seasons that put them there weren’t painful. Those moments were incredibly painful. I don’t see those seasons as good, but I do recognize that God has used them for good. He is using them for His kingdom, and for His glory. I also see how those lessons continue to shape me to this day.

I see a sparrow, and I am reminded that I am also seen and known by God. I can rest in the Vine instead of trying to put ‘the pieces’ back together. Or, at least, trying to put the pieces back together in a way that makes me feel more comfortable. But then I remember that God is the One who has been using all of this to shape me, so what better place is there to rest than in Him? I tell Him that it hurts, but then I remind my soul to put my hope in God because I can trust in Him.

Choosing joy doesn’t always equal happiness. It doesn’t mean you no longer hurt. It doesn’t mean you are always smiling and skipping through life, as you feel the pain tug at your heart and body. That would be disingenuous. It is choosing over and over again to put my hope and joy in God.

Don’t get me wrong, though I may talk a lot about the struggle, I am still quick with a smile, despite how I am feeling. That smile is not fake. Sometimes it is fought for, but it is real. I am quick to crack a joke and laugh. So much so that, during a period of time when the pain was really bad and out of control, my parents had to take me to the ER.

I needed a wheelchair and a sick bag. The pain brought sweat to my brow, and my body shook with the pain. Rocking back and forth in the chair seemed to help with the pain, so I did that, clutching the sick bag while cutting up with the nurses. This was my first trip to the ER, so I didn’t think anything of it until the nurses left and Mom told me to act like I was in pain.

I told her I was.

She said she knew that, but because I was laughing and cracking jokes, the nurses and doctors might not believe me. So, for the rest of the time, as we sat in there for hours, I remained quiet, didn’t make eye contact, continued rocking back and forth, held the sick bag for dear life, and every once in a while, added a groan of pain, hoping the nurses would forget that I had just been laughing and cracking jokes right after telling them my pain was a 10/10 on the pain scale. Thankfully, they did believe me, and after being there for an ungodly number of hours, I was given a shot for the pain and then sent home.

Both were real. The pain that had me rocking back and forth in that wheelchair was real, but so was the laughter. One did not invalidate the other. I wasn’t happy or joyous about that pain, but I still found joy in the middle of it. That joy is because of Jesus. It is from God, not something I create on my own. Choosing joy is choosing to turn back toward the One who is the source of it.

I still do not have this concept perfected, which is exactly why I have the tattoo on my forearm. I still do as David did, soaking my pillow with my tears and questioning my soul as to why it feels so dejected. I still need space to check my emotions and process them. And many times, as I look down in despair, my tattoo catches my eye, which brings my eyes back to my Savior.

And when I look back to my Savior, that is my quiet proclamation to Him that today, I am choosing joy!

Selah: How can you actively remind yourself to choose joy when your circumstances don’t seem to call for it? What reminds you to turn your eyes back to God? What tools do you use to help you go from soaking your pillow with tears to placing your hope in Him and in doing so, choosing joy?