Making the Most of the Journey

My family and I just returned from our annual weekend trip to Asheville, and (as always) I've come out of it with some "deep thoughts." Mom and I like to make the most of the trip there and back -- we'll stop the car on the side of the road when the mood hits, get out, take some pictures, get back in the car, and go about our merry way. However, my father, bless his heart, does happen to fulfill the male stereotype in this area. He hides it quite well, but he tends to be a bit single-minded in his determination to "get there," no matter where we're going. And by no means is he alone in his conviction: my grandmother tells the story of when she and Grandpa went out west and she asked him to make one special stop. He told her, "we can't stop at every little thing," and kept going. It was the Grand Canyon.

But, I must admit, Dad was kind to Mom and me today. Rather than just zooming along the interstate today to get straight back to the house, he agreed to driving down "country roads" and stopping by Chimney Rock to explore the views. He rode the elevator up with us to the Rock, and actually fared the heights much better than Mom or I did. We enjoyed the 75-mile views, snapped some pictures, and took the elevator back down through the mountain to the parking lot.

Mom and I decided that we would like to take a hike to see Hickory Nut Waterfall (only in North Carolina would they name a waterfall "Hickory Nut"), and Dad decided to people watch back at the gift shop. We knew the trail was rated "moderate," and we soon learned why. At least 80% of it was uphill, over roots and loose rocks. But we knew that hiking the trail was the only way to experience the waterfalls. So, we went. In just over half an hour, we made our way to its end, and were rewarded by the cool mist and beautiful view of Hickory Nut Falls. We snapped some more pictures and began our (thankfully) downhill trek back to the car. As we got back to the beginning of the trail, I overheard a teenage girl talking to her mother about the trail -- she was discussing the difficulty of walking uphill, and told her mother that the park officials should expand the path into a road that cars could negotiate.

At first, I was inclined to agree. Wouldn't it just be easier to drive a car (or take a people mover) to the falls? More people would be able to go down the path, and it would obviously take less time to get there. But then I realized that I was falling prey to that same "destination" mentality. Not only did I find quite a few great views and interesting stops along the path as I was going there, but I also realized that I would not have enjoyed the waterfall as much as I did had I not pushed myself to get there.

And (yes, there's a moral coming) I think my experience today served as yet another reminder of how we often view our lives. We set our eyes on our ultimate goal -- which is in no way wrong -- but then we tend to get tunnel vision. But, yet again, God shows His grace. He allows us to get waylaid. He throws obstacles in our path to slow us down, get us sidetracked, and sometimes grind us to a stop. And while I'm in no way saying that it's the only reason God does this, I'm willing to submit that the lesson I learned through my little epiphany today is a really good reason for it. If we reached every destination within moments of embarking on the journey, not only would we miss out on opportunities and lessons along the way, but we would also take for granted the destination itself. So, as I continue my journey, I must "press on toward the goal," but at the same time allow myself to enjoy the path that God has given me to walk.

So Just Call Me a Prude and Get It Over With.

Last Sunday morning, I awoke to find my mother watching an extremely popular movie from a few years back. It received multiple awards -- even its fair share of Oscars. Everything that I had ever heard about this movie was that it was basically "God's Gift to American Cinema" and that I was depriving myself by never having seen it. So, I sat down and watched the second half with her.

(By this point you're more than likely wondering which movie it was. However, I thought long and hard about it, and decided not to name it here. What matters here is the point that I'm trying to make -- and I know that if I specified which film I was referencing, I'd lose those people who do, in fact, enjoy it. I don't want to cause derision. I want to relate the lesson I learned, and I think I can do that best by not being specific.)

What I quickly discovered was that it was a very dark movie. For just over two hours, it detailed the decline and collapse of a network of human relationships. Critics have hailed this movie and many like it as sophisticated social satire, yet I couldn't help but see the emptiness of it. These characters were completely devoid of joy -- there was absolutely nothing redeeming about their lives. So, instead, they turned to alternative forms of diversion. Instead of striving to make their lives better, they simply turned to what would distract them from the bleakness of their daily routines as they were.

It made me think. Henry David Thoreau said in Walden, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." And while Thoreau used it in the context of work, I firmly believe that his sentiment can be expanded to all of life. This movie (inversely) proved to me once again the importance of joy. Most people think that the most important thing in life is happiness -- and it ends them up in desperation to find the next "thing" that will make them happy. That's because, no matter how you cut it, happiness is dependent upon circumstances. In fact, happy and happen both come from the same word -- hap, which means fortune or luck. In other words, things in your life have to happen in a way that is pleasing to you in order for you to be happy. However, what is even more important than happiness is joy. And while many people think I'm splitting hairs when I talk about the difference between the two, I must still hold that there is one.

So, what's the difference? Happiness is reactive; joy is proactive. Joy is the realization that contentment is possible regardless of circumstances. Basically, joy is saying, "I refuse to let the ups and downs of life get in the way of my outlook." And to that end, I also firmly believe that true joy is only possible through a relationship with Jesus Christ. It goes hand in hand with faith, because only those who rely on the total working out of God's plan can rejoice without seeing the whole picture. That's where the emptiness of the mere pursuit of happiness shows itself, for a person would have to be in control of every situation he faces in order to be fulfilled by happiness. And if you've ever seen a spoiled child, you know exactly where that line of thinking gets you.

But the best part of true joy is that it's contagious. If you really have joy in your life, you won't want to sit on it -- you'll want to spread it around to every person who has a place in your heart. You'll want them to experience the same contentment that you have found. (And, incidentally, that's another big difference between happiness and joy. Happiness can tend to be rather selfish.) That's yet another reason why sharing the Gospel of Christ is so vitally important. Not only does it change a person's address when he checks out of his "current home," but it also renovates the house he's living in while he's here. It gives people the joy that fills all the emptiness and desperation that they face in life. It allows them to rest in the Lord, rather than desperately searching for the next diversion.