The Good Life Lie

This morning, or rather in the wee hours of this not so fine day, I tossed around with the beginnings of another headache.  Not a good time of course, with three little girls sleeping in the living room, needing to get ready and off to worship this morning. ‘Oh God, please no, not another one,’ I thought. 'This pain in my head and neck won't fit into today's schedule. Tommy will have to function on his own again…'

I slept off and on with the dreaded pain escalating to a full throttled migraine ‘till my alarm rang out its signal for me to get up. ‘No, this won’t do at all.’ I thought as I rolled over moaning with the need to vomit.  Old fears of ending up like my daddy, encapsulated within a body that won’t move, slithered back into my thoughts.  He’d had migraines too, most of my life, ‘till a massive stroke silenced the pain with a paralyzing blow to his brain.  And now I, feeling the throbbing in my head several times a month, worry that I’ll end up just like him.  No one really ever knew what happened that awful day, but suspected that recent migraines had been severe enough to cause spasms in his neck, temporarily blocking the blood flow through the vessels to his brain.

The phrase “the good life,” whatever that unattainable concept meant, rolled around in my head a few minutes ago, mocking me for my faith in God.  Where is this “good life,” Lord?  This life isn’t good.  The circumstances around me and the world are not good today.  Even with my complaining, I felt the Lord’s comfort resting there alongside my bruised faith and rumpled covers.  Prayers for my own pain relief soon led into prayers for so many others that have most likely been betrayed by the world’s advertisements for a “good life.”  Slide like pictures of them filed through my mind like movie clips without sound.  And so I prayed as they appeared, as if they were waiting in line with unanswered questions similar to mine.

Monique’s family…God please…minister to those remaining in absolute agony following her death only a week ago. Cancer and chemo had ripped away the last bits of her young life without mercy or thought to those left grieving. Now her husband, who had begged you for healing, is left to care for three young ones, all alone.

For Matt’s dad, who miraculously was brought back to life after weeks of existing in a state somewhere between the living and the dead. After a tremendous tug of war, the living won out and he was brought home. But not without sacrifice, and no where near completely healed.  Though thankful for his spared life, fear and anxiety remain behind as they face an unknown future.

Father God, for the families of our Kaufman County DA, his wife, and his assistant, gunned down just weeks ago…they are left with fear, anger, and unimaginable, heart- rending grief.  It sears clear through the children and friends, to the community left to seek justice from this senseless nightmare.

For my mom, Lord, who has gotten up each morning and gone to bed each night the last 28 years, feeling the full weight of responsibility for Daddy’s life within her hands.  Lord, her body and spirit are aching with fatigue from the load.

On and on the faces needing prayer came to mind till I believe God spoke clearly to my heart about some things.  I believe He let me know that the good life is not going to show itself within a trouble free existence.  It’s not a mirage of carefree, problem free, politically perfect, “I have everything I need to make me happy,” world. Somehow I need to reconcile the false belief that goodness and joy only follow after circumstances have adjusted to my liking. Believing in God and loving Jesus, don't provide stress free living, or steer me clear of the evil in this world.  "Goodness, or rather I," He said, "am found within the pain." 

Goodness was shown within the loving words spoken publicly by my heartbroken friends Karen and Merilee  during Monique’s funeral service yesterday. It bloomed within the ICU room of Matt’s dad, as many people praised God regardless of outcomes for his life. Goodness was found recently at the Kaufman court house  as people gathered around to pray not only for justice, but for salvation for those that killed Mark Hasse and the McClelland's.  And I too, experienced the good life just yesterday while pushing a grocery basket for my mom up and down the aisles of Brookshires, as she slowly filled her basket with items needed for the week. 

Yes, I believe God is telling me that the good life is possible. There's goodness in knowing Jesus is lying down beside me during a migraine, or even paralysis should that happen later on.  There was goodness in Tommy’s quiet service this morning as he got the kids ready for church without my help. It was shown while Andrew played his guitar during worship last Sunday morning. Instead of giving up, he’s graciously allowed God to lead him around his disease, without bitterness for what was lost. The “experience of goodness” that we all seek, is an intangible attitude about life that will allow Monique’s husband, with God’s help, to raise his young family without their mom. It will allow Matt’s dad to thrive in spirit and his mom to provide needed care no matter what level of health he achieves.

I’m thinking that having a “good life” isn’t going to just appear after things in life have gone my way. It’s not something to hope for with job promotions, retirement plans, or even healing of those I love.  It’s not meant to wait ‘till after the funeral is over, or when the killer is brought to justice, or after my abusers have confessed their sins against me. It isn’t something to anticipate in the future when such and so happens.  It's born in the present, from an attitude of acceptance of life as we know it.  It entails “seeing” the beauty of God’s spirit living, breathing, and reproducing unexplained joy, peace, and hope around, through, and in spite of the present circumstances we now find ourselves in.