How to be happy in life

Happiness. 

Want to know how to get it?  

The secret is right there, if you read between the lines.  

Which is right where I got stuck today in reading Psalm 146.

Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God..

Whose help is in God. 

Help.

This is what struck me, 

the ever-independent...

I need to be willing to be helped.

Tough to swallow considering I tend to identify with the Enneagram Type 2,

which is aptly named,

HELPER.

To offer help is one thing, but to be willing to be helped is another.

It takes vulnerability,

trust,

release.

Plunging into my soul I must ask myself the query that looms, 

down-deep,

at the center of the core,

do I really believe that it is God who holds everything together

or is this the mask that covers the true lie--

it's me? 

Me, the helper, 

the one who is always trying to be good,

to earn love,

and acceptance...

bearing the martyr burdens,

thinking in exchange happiness will ensue?

But this is a dead end road.

And ultimately...life.

Because I. am. not. God.

In this resurrection season,

as death digs deep in the earth

only to release the hope and joy of new life,

so do I stretch my hands upward.

Turning my face heavenward,

I realize that happiness is found

in who comes to me.

The true Help--

the one who is always first reaching out

to this mama who tries so hard,

(or am I just distracted, afraid of seeing the Light?)

but continually falls short.

Yet breathes grace.

Upon grace.

It's not up to me.

It's not all up to me.

Release brings peace.

If so, then could this be where true joy is found?

For there is nothing that can separate me from this Love.

Hand and help outstretched.

For always and forever.

True life released to live.

Dare I trust in this grace 

that accepts the whole of me,

just as I am?

As the soul-tired mama whose guilt rises with each PBS show,

whose mind clammers with shouts of should's and could's?

The weight buries. 

Am I willing to accept this sweetness?

Because maybe in this case,

receiving really is better than giving. 

Can I receive this gift given so freely?

With no thank-you note expected in return?

Yet, might my life,

lived well,

full of love,

grace,

and overflowing joy

be enough.