I Will Be Happy If...

I've noticed a lot of people lately talking about how they finally have what was supposed to make them happy.  Kids, a spouse, friends, money, a home, whatever... and I've noticed something.  The ones who are happy now, were happy before.  It seems to have almost NOTHING to do with whatever they wanted.

So.

What will make you happy?

Personally, I will be happy if we pull ahead further in our finances.  I will be happy if I can actually get pregnant before time runs out (actually, I will be happy if I find out time has not run out already).  I will be happy if we can adopt some babies.  I will be happy if we can adopt some older children.  I will be happy if we finish our house.  I will be happy if I can spend more time with friends.  I will be happy if I can be healthy.  I will be happy when I heal from the surgery I had just over a week ago.

But all of that... all of that is nothing when I try to compare it to knowing my God.  I can't even make the comparison, because they are too far apart.

And I realize something... I have to be happy.  Not because it's important.  Really it's not - my lungs work just as well when I'm sad as they do happy.  My finances don't go any further, my life isn't easier, and I'm not any more saved if I am happy than I am if I am sad. 

But people are watching.  Sad people.  Angry people.  Hurt people.  Scared people.  All those emotions I don't like, they feel.  And so do I.  So I let them see.  And then I let them see me happy in spite of it all.  I let them see me happy while we can't fathom how we'll pay next week's taxes and bills, while my uterus is painful empty (it really is painful; part of last week's procedure has made sure of that), while I scramble to find a way to try one last time before surgery takes away my chance for the rest of my life, while I dream about adopting babies and older kids and wonder if it will ever really happen, while our house has insulation showing where there is no drywall and I don't know when the last time I hugged certain friends was, and it's been over a year since I last thought of myself as "healthy" and even while I lay curled from the pain of the last operation.  I am happy.  Yes.  Right now, right this second, I am happy.  I have something that shines so brightly that all of those other real and painful and unpleasant things lose their emotional pull, and I.  Am.  Happy.

Are you?

~Psalm 119:2:  Happy are those who keep His rules, who try to obey Him with their whole heart.

I cannot even begin to TRY to count the number of times when people have heard me express longing for children.  Countless times.  Also, sorrow for the children who I've conceived and then had go on to heaven before they were even born.  I admit, it's been a big focal point for a bit over five years now.

And so many well-intentioned people have said "Just be happy with what you have."  And the reality is, I am not happy "with what I have."  I am not happy about the loss.  I am not happy that my husband is taking a Sunday afternoon nap with no children around him.  I am not happy that the surgeon has said that really, this last surgery was it.  End of the line.  Time for baby or time to move on.  I am not happy that my house is, 3 years later, still a construction zone.  I am not happy that our choices as a family have not meant greater financial prosperity.  None of those things are reasons to be happy.  But truthfully, if I was rich and had ten kids and a mansion and had never had so much as a cold, none of that would be a reason to be happy, either.

The only real reasons to be happy, are not impacted or changed or touched at all by the circumstances of life.  Our salvation, peace, eternal life, hope, confidence, and the fact that Romans 8 promises that NOTHING can separate us from the love of God.  THAT is why I am happy.  I am unshakably, undeniably happy.

And I still want babies.  I still cry sometimes when I think about what could be.  I still ache to hold a child that is biologically related to my husband and to me in my arms.  That may never happen - each day that goes by is a day closer to saying "Okay, nope."  But even if that day comes - even if things get painful enough or I find myself in danger again - and I say "Okay, do it" and the surgeon spends her day sectioning off my abdomen and wrapping organs and taking steps that make pregnancy a very dangerous idea... even then, I will still cry about my desire to be a biological mother.  But while the tears stream and my heart aches, I will also be happy.  Just like I am today.