1 Timothy 11 talks about “the glorious gospel of the blessed God.” The word that is actually used here, comes closer to what we would consider “happy God.” When I think of God, I think of phrases like “well pleased” and “plans to prosper,” when I think of “Happy” I think of Pharrell Williams. But a happy God, now that is something to think about.
I read the other day that you are only as happy as your happiest child. I can’t tell you where it comes from, the person who said it to me couldn’t remember where they heard it, but lack of origin aside, it’s so true.
When my children suffer, I suffer.
When my children hurt, I hurt.
When my children worry, I worry for them.
When my children are bored, I am irritated with them.
But it is true. The more common phrase is that you are only as strong as your weakest link, but I think the strength of your family has a lot to do with the happiness of each person. If someone is unhappy it affects everyone else.
Which brings me back to this happy God of ours. Is God inherently happy? Or does he have to find his happiness? If God is only as happy as his happiest child, what does that do to God?
His happiest child.
I am lucky to live in America. Even luckier still, to live in Maine, a more blessed place there never was nor could be (see picture above). I am a happy child of God. Even when I am sick, or whiny, or dissatisfied, I’m still pretty happy. Even when I feel fat or alone, I’m still pretty happy. If God if as happy as his happiest child, it’s not me I’m thinking about. It’s someone leading a life thousands of miles away from me, or even a few blocks away from me, without food, without family, without faith.
God is bigger than I am. When T is sad, my insides want to stuff him back into my womb to protect him. When C is afraid, I could take on the world to protect him. When M is sad, I hold her and don’t let go. Moms are pretty reactionary, or over-reactionary beings. It’s hard wired into us.
I think God can be simultaneously a happy God, and a God of lamentations. That he can see his whole universe and still get out of bed in the morning, while undone laundry is sometimes enough to keep me hiding in my room.
I think he can be all things at all times to all people and I will never understand that completely. But to only be as happy as your happiest child? I’m pretty sure we should be spending our time raising that happiness bar for him.