Major Shift — Grateful, yet Grieving
Happiness is a popular pursuit. We are not in short supply of being bombarded by the prospect of happiness in a cup, a car, a cruise, a clothing item, or whatever else we see on our screens 24/7.
When I consider my own personal quest for happiness, I have come to find a major shift in how I see it, define it, and how it is drastically different from joy. I recently discovered a quote that made me pause, by pastor and author Walter Wangerin Jr., where he said;
"The difference between shallow happiness and a deep, sustaining joy is sorrow. Happiness lives where sorrow is not. When sorrow arrives, happiness dies. It can't stand pain. Joy, on the other hand, rises from sorrow and therefore can withstand all grief. Joy, by the grace of God, is the transfiguration of suffering into endurance, and of endurance into character, and of character into hope—and the hope that has become our joy does not (as happiness must for those who depend on it) disappoint us."
In writing this post, I needed to read this quote at least a dozen times to grasp the definitions the author uses. It makes no sense. Each sentence has weight in creating a major shift in how joy is different from happiness.
When I read Wangerin’s bio, he wrote from a place of pain and was well acquainted with sorrow. He lived with cancer for 15 years, which ended his life in 2021. He knew sorrow, and he knew joy. Deep vs. shallow. Enduring vs. fleeting. Forged in the fire vs. formed by circumstances. Hard fought vs. easily-filled.
The change agent was sorrow. Like a house, happiness was evicted when sorrow arrived. In the absence of happiness, there was space for sorrow to “rise” and take up residence, transforming “suffering into endurance, endurance into character, and character hope.” (Romans 5:5)
Our grief does not evade joy. This kind of joy is a demonstration of God’s grace. This joy creates hope that never disappoints.
Considering all of this, I’m wondering if grief and sorrow hold a capacity for something we can’t see yet, but is being formed: something deeper, while gradually turning our heartbreak into hope.
Just because it’s not visible doesn’t mean it’s not forming. We may just have to wait.
