The Conclusion of Mom's Letter to Heather on life, death and happiness!

Dear Heather, 

This is the continuation of yesterday's letter.You wrote that you just wanted to be happy.  And then I blurted out, "I don't think Christianity is a solution to our life problem.  I think it is more a solution to our death problem."  

I had to stop and think about what that meant and why I wrote those words. So I did.

For the record, I'm asking God to throw out whatever isn't of Him.  Sometimes, my human thoughts get mixed up in what God says.  I don't want that to confuse you or me.

So, I’m thinking about what it means to say Christianity isn't a solution to our life problem....   My immediate thought is what I have said many times before.  Becoming a Christian doesn't mean we get a free pass to avoid problems and issues and sin.  It doesn't mean that we won't experience tragedy and hardship.  And it doesn't guarantee that we will always and consistently be "happy" with life here on earth.

What faith in Christ does give us is CERTAINTY IN DEATH.  It guarantees that eternity will be everything we could want and more. 

I can't help but connect this to thoughts that I have been entertaining for some time now about the value of happiness in our lives. (Let me clarify... I'm not talking about joy, but happiness - which I think is different.  But that is a topic for later.) 

I often wonder where we humans got the idea that we are supposed to be “happy.” That somehow, the measure of our success on earth is how happy we feel.

I think happiness is an emotion, not a fact. And emotions aren’t that reliable.

As mother to so many different children I often think about what it would take to make you guys happy. Sometimes, I want to bring you happiness for a special occasion, or because you are struggling and need a little boost.  Unlike most people, I haven't wished or prayed that you be happy. 

It's not that I want you to be unhappy.  That would be crazy.  But two things I do know.  One.  Adam and Eve messed with paradise and that messed up perfection for all of us.  Two. I have come to realize that it is an absolutely impossible task for one person to create happiness for another human being. 

I can create it temporarily. Ice cream almost always does that.  I can provide an atmosphere where my husband and  children can experience happiness.  But I can’t make anyone happy by what I say or what I do – at least not for very long.

Ask any American parent what they want for their children and most will answer, “I just want them to be healthy and happy.” 

Unfortunately, many modern parents seem to believe that they can achieve that goal for their child by giving them whatever they want. 

By letting them make all their own decisions and then rescuing them from the natural consequences.  

By catering to their every need.

By watching over them constantly and making sure they have all that they think they desire - even what is not good for them.

By allowing them to control the choices that impact the entire family.  (Even advertisers understand that many American children control the purse strings - which is why they direct their advertising to children.)

And my personal favorite... by being their friend instead of a parent. (That, too, is another topic for later!)

In the past 40 years, American children have been raised to believe that they are entitled to instant happiness at all times.  Parents’ lives revolve around making their children happy. They try to buy them happiness. They try to create that state of mind.

But mostly, all they have succeeded in doing is creating a greedy, self-centered, egotistical, demanding, dependent generation that is often quite unpleasant to be around. 

And the irony is that as long as each person is pursuing his own happiness – as long as each person believes that he is entitled to exactly what he wants at any given moment -- someone else has to be UNhappy because the individual desires usually conflict with each other. Two people can't be first.

Each person may rightfully try to achieve happiness.  However, if everyone else is seeking the same thing at the same time, without regard to the happiness of others, most people end up being very unhappy most of the time.

Ironically, I’ve had this opinion for most of my adult life. My parents raised us not to be the center of attention. Adults were given that privilege. My father did not believe that children were designed to lead the world and make decisions for the family. My parents took care of all of our basic needs, but we made few decisions that affected the entire family.

Night time was time for the adults.

We were allowed to participate, but only if we were seen and not heard. We weren’t playing with our toys in the middle of the living room demanding food and drink and entertainment.  We sat quietly on the floor or a chair and listened. They treated us like young adults and expected us to act that way. And we did, as much as that was possible.

And if we didn’t. We were banished to the lower two floors of our house. Destined to listen from the staircase – out of sight of the adults.

My mom and dad have the gift of hospitality. They have had someone over for dinner (or drinks and cigars) almost every night of their lives. There was no pattern to the type of people they thought were worthy of their time or generosity. 

There were politicians. Poor people. Rich people. Ex-cons. Former White House staffers. Store Owners. Professionals. Working people. Unemployed people. Hippies. Conservatives.  Jesus Freaks. Athiests. Poets. Artists. Intellectuals. High School Dropouts. People love to spend time with them because they are gracious and generous and knowledgable and they make others feel important and valued. 

And they brought people together that might not otherwise find themselves in the same room. Ever. They did that well.

I remember when we moved into the big house, we had rust-colored long shag carpeting all throughout the upstairs. Over the years it collected buckets of dust and debris deep into the fibers of that soft carpeting. I don’t know how people with allergies survived the shag carpeting era. But that’s another story.

The largest room in the house was the living/dining room – but the children were not allowed to enter that room without permission. It was for adults only – or children that were acting like adults.

Ironically, we had no family room. No television room. No other gathering place except the kitchen. So kids gathered outside or in each other’s rooms. Our friends had rooms like that. And big color televisions. But we didn’t. We had one small black and white television that my parents took out on special occasions – like when the Apollo flights took off and landed. Or on Saturday morning when we crept into the living room to carry the extremely heavy 13-inch clunker through the kitchen and into our bedroom with high hopes that we would not awaken our father, who was asleep on the other side of a partition. All this was done with the hopes that our parents would sleep a little longer, giving us a chance to watch Tom and Jerry, Speedracer, Felix the Cat or Land of the Lost!

From the beginning, our parents lived differently than much of the rest of the world. I don’t think it was for religious reasons.  They just lived the way they thought that they should. Having both grown up as devout Catholics – I feel sure that that influenced their thoughts about what was right and wrong.

Anyway, that room smelled of ciggerettes and pipes. It had casual furniture and lots of paintings of nude woman. Sometimes, the stereo belted out music from Neil Diamond – songs I heard over and over that still make me feel free and happy - the way they did when I poked my head around the staircase to see my small little view of the world in our living room.

Other times, it was classical music or jazz. But there was always music. And candles. And alcohol. Often, I would pick up what I thought was a glass of my watered down Tab Cola – and before I realized it -- I gulped what was left of someone’s scotch and water. Sometimes straight scotch. It was disgusting. I think that must have been when I decided that I would never drink after anyone else - something I still try never to do. It is also probably the time in my life I decided I did not like alcohol. I have no good memories of the feeling of gulping alcohol thinking it was my Tab.

Anyway, that room felt like what adults were supposed to be like. It was worldly. People laughed and cried and talked about the world in that room. I heard many many curse words. I heard my father and mother give advice. I heard arguments about religion and politics and life.

Ironically, I didn’t hear much about God. Although I did hear a lot about the Catholic Church. Mostly negative stuff. At some point in the 1960’s, after Vatican II, my parents began to see hypocrisy in the church and strayed away from it. Mom still took us to church and we went to Catholic School – but my parents were clearly not happy with the way the church was addressing things like the Civil Rights Movement and other social issues of the 1960’s and 1970’s.

We didn’t talk about it much then. And frankly, we don’t talk about it much now. This is my understanding of what happened based on my childhood memories.

You might think I got sidetracked on memories of my childhood – which I did. But I did it because it relates to my concept of happiness. And creating happiness. And parents duty to make their children happy. My parents taught me a lot about that.

Anyway, that leads me to thinking about the death part. I think we were originally designed to be happy all the time – that heaven was on earth so to speak – in the Garden of Eden. In Paradise. When we were fully connected to and with God.

But after the fall of man – after Adam and Eve chose to disobey God on behalf of us all - it was impossible to be happy because we were separated from God. We were separated by sin.

And even now, when we accept God. When we accept Jesus as our Savior and become a Christian, our old bodies are washed away and replaced with new bodies in the spirit. But our fleshly body remains the same. And flesh is where the sin is.

Even though Ms. Smith in The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life says God intended for us to fully overcome sin here on earth – somehow, my experience and knowledge has demonstrated that we can’t seem to ever fully escape it. Some people control themselves better than others. Some people have more trust in God than others. But none is free of sin.

(For the record, I may not fully understand what Ms. Smith is saying just yet. I am open to new revelations. If I learn new things, I will share them with you. If you learn something new – tell me.)

So, now we get to the death part. Becoming a Christian does not mean we get whatever we want whenever we want so that we can be happy all the time here on earth. It does not mean we will escape our problems. It doesn’t mean we are suddenly good people. But it does assure our happiness in heaven after we die.

And in the middle – between accepting Christ as our Savior and death – comes all the stuff in between. Some things are really really good. Some things are really really bad. Some things seem so bad it seems unreal or unfair or mean or evil. But they are also our opportunity for growth. They are when we can learn the most. They are the times when we can choose to learn from the experience. They are the times that give us a deeper understanding of others and their trials. They are the times when we can trust that God will keep his promise and that ultimately, all our hardships become opportunities for Him to be glorified.

Unfortunately, the middle is both necessary and hard. But overall, it is what makes life meaningful to each of us.

I love you,

Mom

P.S. I’m sorry you feel pushed aside and too much trouble. You do take a lot of time, but it isn’t a waste of time. That is another one of those lies you believe that makes your life more miserable than it needs to be.