Happily Ever After…

When I was a kid, it was “When I’m a teenager.” When I was a teenager, it was “When I’m in college.” When I was in college, it was “When I finally enter the ‘real world.'” When I entered the “real world,” it was “When I finally have a place of my own.” When I got a place of my own, it was “Maybe after this intense Bible study.” Or “Maybe once I really get good at my job.” Or “Maybe once I get married someday.”

Maybe…I’m just not getting it. There’s always that something that I look forward to and convince myself that once I reach it — once I get past this — things will be so much better. I’ll finally find that “sweet spot,” so to say. Everything will finally come together, and I’ll have figured my problems out, and it will basically be smooth sailing from there until I die.

Insanity, right? And yet I indulge myself in the idea that someday I’ll have this life figured out.

It happens every time I find that I’ve royally screwed something up in my life — specifically in my spiritual life. Here I am, hating myself for being so stupid and being such a mess. And I tell myself, “Brianna, you just need to get to this spot, and then you’ll stop messing up like this all the time. You’ll finally have it figured out, and you’ll finally stop being such a disappointment.”

So I get to “that spot,” only to find that I’ve screwed up something new. “Okay,” I say, “So it’s really this spot where I’ll figure it out.” And so on and so forth.

It’s a very miserable and disappointing existence, I do think — this constantly chasing after that ever-evading point of perfection.

I blame the popular storybook saying, “And they lived happily ever after.” As if it’s possible to reach a point in life here on earth from which the rest of your life after it is nothing but bliss.

But lately I’ve started noticing something. I’m not the only one who doesn’t have this life figured out. In fact, there’s not a single person on this earth that has life figured out. If they think they do, they’re delusional. It doesn’t matter how old they are. My grandfather is 100 years old — doesn’t have this life figured out.

It doesn’t matter if they’ve been through the wildest myriad of experiences in this life. They don’t have it figured out. It doesn’t matter if they are the most intelligent person on this earth. It doesn’t matter if they’re the world’s most brilliant philosopher. It doesn’t matter if they are the most godly person I’ve ever known.

It doesn’t matter if they are Moses or Paul or John or David himself. They didn’t have it figured out, either.

But…maybe that’s not the goal. Maybe God didn’t put us on this earth so that we could one day reach some magical moment when we have it all together.

I’m starting to realize that this life is less like a game of capture the flag, and a whole lot more like a marathon. (I mean, duh — I can think of at least three scriptures that refer to life as a race)

Life isn’t about figuring it all out. It’s about understanding that every day I’m on this earth, until the moment the Lord takes me home, I’m meant to learn something new. I’m meant to make mistakes, have my eyes opened, see something I thought I knew and realize I’ve been seeing it wrong all along.

I’m meant to get to know Got more and more until I meet Him face to face. It’s about understanding that there’s always more for Him to reveal to me, show me, teach me, woo me with. That even moments before I die, I still will have only seen and understood the tiniest fraction of His glory and love and power. And that that tiny fraction will take me a lifetime to realize.

It’s not about getting to that sweet spot where I’m finally living the “ultimate Christian life.” I’m in the real sweet spot every single moment of every day because the real sweet spot is when He teaches me and shows me something new. And the best news? He’ll never run out of material.

For us, it’s not about reaching perfection. It’s about having enough faith to walk with Jesus to the very end of this life. And knowing that the walk will never truly end. Even after I leave this earth, I’ll still be walking with Him in eternity. And that walk…well, I’ll never grow tired of it.

Here on this earth, God wants us to have faith to believe Him, to follow, to obey, to trust, to fail, and to learn. He wants us to do the thing with Him. Only then, in the midst of failing and falling and running and stumbling and crawling and wrestling and limping and leaping, will we do what we’re meant to do in this life.

While I still have breath in these lungs, I’m never going to reach happily ever after. And quite honestly, that’s the most exciting news of all. How miserable and boring my life would be if I learned my last lesson or received my last revelation from God in this life today — or if I let fear of failure or just plain lack of interest keep me from allowing God to teach me something new — and all that was left was to wait to die so I could be with Him in glory.

Walking with God is not meant to be boring. When truly understood and lived out, it is the most exciting, thrilling, mysterious, eye-opening, soul-enriching, educational, anticipation-inducing adventure you and I could ever imagine.

And if there’s a “last lesson” for me to learn or a “last revelation” for God to give me on this earth, I pray that it’s in my final moments. I pray that the only happily ever after I receive is the ultimate and only true happily ever after — eternity in Heaven with my savior and my God.

Anything else pales drastically in comparison.

So teach me, Lord. And give me a teachable heart for the rest of my days. Don’t ever stop amazing me with your wonders that are new every day. Don’t ever let me stop seeing life for what it is, what you meant it to be — a walk, a race, an incredible journey and exciting adventure with you. To you be the glory, Lord.

 

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.    – 2 Timothy 4:7-8