The “disease model” of mental health asserts that good feelings come effortlessly to “normal” people, so bad feelings are evidence of a disease…Here is an alternative: Happiness is a skill that must be learned…
Refuse to see happiness as an entitlement.
Loretta G. Breuning, “The Therapy-Industrial Complex,” THE EPOCH TIMES, 8/25-8/31/2021
Work For Your Joy
Not that we lord it over your faith, but we work with you for your joy, for you stand firm in your faith.
2 Corinthians 1:24
Did you catch that? We work, Paul wrote, with you for your your joy.
Which means, we’re not entitled to joy and happiness is not a right. I don’t want the point to get lost in my words: You’ve got to work for joy.
And I mean that as 100% encouragement. Because too many of us have bought into the lie that says if we’re normal and healthy we’ll never feel flat, lonely or blue. And, while we might not say it this way, that we have a right to be happy.
But that’s wrong.
Happiness Is Not A Right
Pursue it, as our Founding Fathers said. Work for it with all your might. Fight for it. But please don’t say it’s your right.
You’re not entitled to it. Joy is a gift. It’s a fruit of the Spirit, meaning it’s given by God. Joy happens. We can’t command it. But we can work for. We can work to place ourselves where joy is more likely to be found. I can’t command a splendid sunset, but I can get out of this hickory woods in the evening and face west toward an open field.
I’m more likely to enjoy a drop-dead sunset there that facing east in my forest. But if I do get to savor that sun, I didn’t earn it. I worked to get where it’s found. But I don’t deserve it. Sun like that is sheer gift.
Count It All Joy
James wrote, Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance.
I’m not an accountant by trade, but my work this Labor Day and every other day is to count it all joy.
Picture me with my ground teeth stalking joy—fully armed too as it’s a highly dangerous quest. The other day I ran up on a wonderful quotation: “The dragon is at the side of the road watching those who pass. Take care lest he devour you! You are going to the Father of souls, but it is necessary to pass by the dragon.”
I love this image. I live this image. My ground teeth and furrowed brow, out I stalk joy. I dare the joy-stealing dragon to breathe his fire as I pass—my eyes set on the city that is to come.
Because I know there is full joy in the presence of my Father, I press on.
George Mueller ran orphanages in England in the 1800’s. He was a joy crusader. You may have read this quote before. I return to it again and again,
The first great and primary business to which I ought to attend every day was, to have my soul happy in the Lord. The first thing to be concerned about was not, how much I might serve the Lord, how I might glorify the Lord; but how I might get my soul into a happy state, and how my inner man might be nourished.
My primary business each morning is the same. And I assure you, many days it takes a fight. It takes a prayer and verse and another prayer and a verse and forcing myself to give thanks for five things before I roll out of bed to, many days, tasks I dread.
The fight of faith is the fight for joy. I wake up every morning and fight that fight. Am I wanting to look at Twitter before I look at Jesus? It sounds stupid. That’s how stupid sin is. Every morning there’s war in the Piper household, and it’s not against my family; it’s against me.
Every day, Piper does what David did (Psalm 101:8), Every morning I will put to silence all the wicked in the land.
We stalk joy to get our souls happy in Jesus every single day. When we feel blue, we neither fear we are diseased, nor give up the fight. We grind our teeth and stalk our way past the ancient serpent that would forever steal our joy.
Because we know joy is not a given and happiness is not our right. Joy is a gift of God and a Spirit-fruit that grows as we fight the good fight of faith. We labor to be happy in Jesus until the day we die.
This wasn’t a how-to post. I wrote this JoyPrO to persuade you that happiness isn’t your right, so you’re not discouraged when it’s absent and you go after it with a fight. But if you want “15 Tactics For Joy,” look here. For one described in detail look here.
An unthankful person is like a container with a hole in it and all the blessings that are in it just leak out. The grateful person has unlimited capacity to truly enjoy God’s blessings, while the ungrateful person can’t enjoy the blessings he does have.
Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth, The Attitude to Gratitude
Do you leak?
Not- Does your thanks spill out and overflow? I mean leak– as in accidentally lose the contents. As in, God’s gifts are lost on you.
A little grumbling here and there might not seem so bad, but it says a lot- about us and about what we believe about God.
Reason #1: Our grumbling proclaims that our God is not good.
We might call it venting, or keeping it real, but take a minute and ask yourself: About what or about whom do I grumble?
I’ll start with me. Sadly, the question is easy: I grumble when my time feels “wasted” and if others’ poor choices caused the “waste,” I might even complain about them.
There- I said it.
But how, you wonder, can I draw such a straight line from my grumbling against the people and circumstances down here straight up to God?
Well, when the Israelites grumbled against Moses and Aaron in the desert, God heard it. Then he told Moses to tell them, Your grumbling is not against us but against the LORD (Exodus 16:8, Numbers 14:26-27). Our Father in heaven heard their grumbling, and hears ours.
When we whine like deprived children, we don’tadorn. We don’t make our loving Lord look good. We slander his loving care to watching eyes and listening ears.
Grumbling, John Piper explains, only adds to the darkness because it obscures the light of God’s gracious, all-controlling providence.
But there’s more.
Reason #2:Our grumbling demands that God submit to our wishes.
We don’t put it like that, but at the end of the day, isn’t that what our complaints say? That we wish God would do it our way, would submit to our wishes. When we grumble, we’re rebel children, pots second-guessing the potter.
For has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor? Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid? (Romans 11:34-35). A complaining spirit, therefore, reveals a problem in our relationship with God.
But there is a difference between grumbling and groaning. Groaning, for the record, can actually be a sign of our faith and hope in God’s promises (See Romans 8:22-24).
Groaning and disappointment, criticism and disagreement need not be the same as grumbling and complaining.
[T]he Bible is full of examples of godly people who say, “I’m upset. I wish this were different. Lord, would you do something? I don’t like this.” […] Grumbling, however, is not a humble cry for help, but saying to God, “I know how to run the universe a bit better than you do.” Instead of saying, “This really hurts, but I’m ready to receive whatever I must receive from God’s hand,” grumbling says, “This stinks, and I’m ready to rebel against God’s heart.” That’s the difference…
We’re talking about rebellion against God. Not that the situation is hard, but that God is hard.
God has promised to provide all our needs according to his riches in glory (Philippians 4:19) and that he will withhold no good thing from him whose walk is upright (Psalm 84:11) and that all things work for good to those who love him and called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28). Not to mention that his mercies are there for the picking, new every morning.
But grumbling says we don’t believe those. Or, at least, for the moment, we’re choosing to ignore them. Grumbling says we don’t trust God.
More from DeYoung,
Though you might direct it toward your spouse, your kids, your parents, or someone in authority, you’re saying to God, “You’re not taking care of me…” Grumbling dishonors God.
The problem with complainers is that they don’t really trust that God is big enough to help and good enough to care. That’s what you think when you complain. “This God?! I may say that I believe him, sing songs about him, and read a Bible about him, but I don’t really believe that he’s big enough to do anything about it or good enough to care about me.
Who knew a little complaining about the rain and work and delays and aches and pains could betray so much?
That grumbling could be such a hard habit to break?
Fill the house with gratitude.
Habit is overcome by habit. It’s called replacement. Breaking bad habits means we fill the void with something good.
Just stopping up the leak isn’t enough. In other words, Quit yer grumbling, is not the goal. That’s just the empty house. And Jesus warned that if the house stays empty, the final plight might be worse than the first (Matthew 12:43-45). We need to fill the house.
We need to do something hard: replace grumbling with thanks and turn that frown upside-down and, by God’s grace, choose gratitude.
Two dogs are fighting inside you. It’s a battle for your mind and the dog you feed the most wins.
For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Romans 7: 22-23
Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind. Romans 12:2a
Thursday afternoon was to be all mine. Translated: Four hours of uninterrupted, precious writing time. A very, very rare gift it was, to have nothing at all in the schedule from one to five.
Not. One. Thing.
You know where this is going. I’ll go there soon.
But first, I was witness to a miracle yesterday. I know it was a miracle because what happened was surprising and welcome and not explicable by natural laws and thus considered the work of a divine agency. Check, check, check and check- surprising, welcome, not explained by natural laws.
And most definitely what happened was a work of God.
Yesterday, I got my mind to mind.
Yup. That’s it.
What I mean is in this. Usually, when little storms like yesterday’s blow through, and change my plans, I recoil. My thoughts stray from the trust in God place they should stay. The place where my lips say to God, You are good and do good always, as the storm clouds roll.
The place where I say that and I mean that and that keeps me from going astray and grumbling. The place where I live in light of the truth of God’s goodness. And obey.
It’s the place where the war wages and I take thoughts captive as the come and my mind minds.
Taken Captive Or Taking Captive?
We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.
2 Corinthians 10:5
Often when my schedule is stymied and my plans gets nixed my mind doesn’t mind.
I’m taken captive and don’t live in light of the truth that as God’s chosen child, He will work all things, including unavoidable little interruptions and surprise storms, for good. I’m taken captive instead of taking thoughts captive to make them obedient to Christ.
But something different happened yesterday. I took some thoughts captives and made them obey. I made my mind mind and really believed that the thunderclouds that ended a tennis lesson too fast for my taste were indeed a good thing.
The stronghold torn down was the one that holds me fast, a lot. That I am the master of my agenda, my desires, my time. That kind of mind must be renewed.
Here’s what I mean.
It started with storm clouds, when the sun went hiding and these beauties blew through. Some thunder, too, cut Son One’s tennis lesson short.
And that little change, caused by the billowy-clouds of one fast-moving front, meant an errand got delayed and another one got added and the day got off-kilter and before I knew it, my precious, all-mine afternoon was almost gone.
Which still does not explain the miracle. That’s coming.
But to see the miracle, you must know this one thing. G.K. Chesterton wrote, and I like to quote, A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it. I’m not naturally a “go with the flow,” kinda girl.
Go With What Flow?
If we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.
That trait is both for better and worse.
And worse shows up when storms blow in and upset my plans and I learn once again, I’m not really in control. That the whole control thing is an illusion, at least when it comes to events and people. My mind knows.
My MO is to fight storms with storms. Short, harsh words to my kids thunder. Or resentful cool fronts push against whoever it was that thwarted my plans. That’s the ugly underside of fighting the current- the woe in not going with the flow.
But for the better part of yesterday afternoon, I did. I went with the flow. When the storm changed my plans, I kept in step with the Spirit. As I did, I was able to test and approve what was good and choose what was better: time shopping with my guys, buying them new tennis shoes, and an unplanned visit with an old friend and, well, before I knew it, it was ten to four.
My mind was renewed by the Spirit. It did mind God’s truth. It obeyed. With each passing hour, each added errand, each little unexpected visit, I was not overwhelmed. I held my peace and didn’t begrudge the delays. My mind minded. And that was nothing short of a miracle. Or maybe it was just the best-fed, strongest dog winning the fight.
Freedom To Mind
Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God.
1 Peter 2:16
There are plenty of versions of the two dogs story, there’s at least a Cherokee version and this northern version. Billy Graham used this version in his book, “The Holy Spirit: Activating God’s Power In Your Life,”
An Eskimo fisherman came to town every Saturday afternoon. He always brought his two dogs with him. One was white and the other was black. He had taught them to fight on command. Every Saturday afternoon in the town square the people would gather and these two dogs would fight and the fisherman would take bets. On one Saturday, the black dog would win; another Saturday the white dog would win- but the fisherman always won! His friends began to ask him how he did it. He said, “I starve one and feed the other. The one I feed always wins because he is always stronger.”
So the ticket to getting the mind to mind is feeding the right dog. Making that dog strong.
But when our minds don’t mind, when we don’t keep in step with the Spirit, when we fuss and grumble against the God-ordained changes in our plans, when- my time is blown away by God’s storm and we rage on, we’re not free. We’re feeding the wrong dog and he’s winning the fights. But that need not be.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
I recently read an article by Philip Holmes, enticingly titled, How to Have a Happy Life. It’s on point. We do have a lot of say in getting our minds to mind. We can set ourselves up to have a good day. There are steps we can take to make our minds mind.
Since our brains are only able to process parts of reality at any one time, it’s impossible to focus on everything going on around us. Our brains filter information out all the time. Because of that, all of us are experiencing “a very subjective, incomplete version of reality.”
[O]ur brains consciously notice whatever is at the forefront of our minds. So if someone is in a bad mood (say you spill coffee on yourself), the brain will recognize that you’re in a bad mood and will begin to shape your perception of everything else in a way that confirms the world is a terrible place. The same goes the other way. If you put yourself in a positive mood, you’ll start to see the world in a more positive light. Another term for this is “confirmation bias” or “selective attention.”
As another example, she points out that if we’re meeting with someone we believe is a jerk, we’re more likely to notice things about them that confirm our judgment. We end up missing qualities that may paint this person in a more positive light. But if we go in aware of our assumptions, we set ourselves up to see and appreciate the good qualities in this person, instead of only noticing the negative.
This all means that, by understanding “the rules,” and provided Spirit power, we are able to shift how we perceive events around us. Storm clouds and all.
Holmes cites a little Jeremiah Burrough’s book called, Contentment, Prosperity, and God’s Glory. His wisdom is 400 years-old, but it’s timeless. He advises us to have these same “good thoughts of God and his dealings with us.” Training ourselves to think like this will definitely help our minds mind.
Have good thoughts of God and make good interpretations of his dealings toward you. It is very hard to live comfortably and cheerfully among friends when one makes harsh interpretations of the words and actions of another. The only way to keep sweet contentment and comfort in Christian societies is to make the best interpretations of things we can. Likewise, a primary way to help keep comfort and contentment in our hearts is to make good interpretations of God’s dealings with us.
This doesn’t mean we won’t have hard days, that there won’t be storms that upset our plans. Storms will come. But it does mean, and I quote Holmes again,
If we embrace that reality that the sovereign God who controls the universe knows us by name and loves us as children and heirs, everything that happens to us will be filtered through these promises. We will begin to see everything, even the hard things, as ultimately good things.
This miracle of the mind doesn’t just happen though. We must act the miracle. Jesus works the miracle. He told the paralyzed man to walk. But that man obeyed. He got up. He acted the miracle.
When the storms come we get up, we talk back to the sinful grumbling mind. We tell ourselves to stop grumbling and get up and walk. The Spirit of Jesus us gives the command-to trust, to believe it really all is good- and we act that miracle.
Miracle, or Best Fed Dog?
But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.
Romans 13:14 Much ado about a little storm and your upset plans one afternoon, you mumble. Granted.
Because in a way, what happened Thursday was just a little overflow of the Spirit at work inside, bringing God’s truth to mind. It doesn’t make for a miracle. I mean, I’ve been memorizing Ephesians 5 for a month now. So in a way my go with the flow was just proof that if you starve the “my-time, flesh dog” and feed the good, renewed-mind dog, the stronger dog will win.
True enough. The fisherman won every bet. Nothing supernatural here.
Or is there?
Because really, the “best fed dog wins” answer just kicks the miracle question down the road. It really just begs another. Maybe the greater miracle than a mind that minds is that anyone at all would have eyes to see God’s glory and freely want to do his will?
Maybe the greater miracle is that anyone of us would choose to feed the calm, meek dog that’s forever at odds with selfish, my-time me?
Maybe the greater miracle is that God would give any of us eyes to see the light of the Gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. That He would shine that light through the our little storms so that we’d even want to feed the good dog. And that, if we did, Christ would give us his mind.
I- swim-upstream, fight-storm-with-storm, Type-A agenda-maker and plan-pusher- for one, think it is.
To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.
“For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?”