I was having a glorious time—perfect spring day with everything in blossom, enjoying a walk, sitting on the deck, delighting in sunshine and a soft breeze on my skin. Feeling genuine joy, contentment, and happiness . . . when spoken words, negative in content and tinged with anger, dashed my sunshine with cold water. I lost my joy, and my inner anger flared.
Why do some people carry around buckets of cold water, ready to douse the first bit of joy they sense in others? I know it’s their protection to cover their pain, but please pour the water over your own head and cool yourself off before you enter my space!
I use my own anger to try to bring some warmth back to my cold body, but it’s a warmth that is self-induced and unproductive. I willingly hand my anger to Jesus, and in my visual I step into a warm shower. Now I feel the sadness and disappointment of a ruined moment, a stolen joy.
“I am your source of joy,” Jesus says. “My presence is what brings you pleasure, and nothing can separate us . . . not man, not beast, not any evil spirit or Satan himself. I am the Light, your warmth, your provider, shield, and protector.”
Can one truly be righteous or in right standing with God? Psalm 112 seems to think so.
Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, who delights greatly in His commandments … and … Light arises in the darkness for the upright, gracious, compassionate, and just—who are in right standing with God. (vv. 1, 4 NASB)
Personally, I delight to do God’s will. I desire to be righteous. I don’t make idols or follow other gods or give a false witness in court. I honor my parents, don’t steal from my neighbor or covet his things. I don’t hate or murder.
Does that mean I have always kept my heart pure? No. Nor does it mean that I don’t slip up and envy someone or say things that are unkind or think bad thoughts, or neglect to love as I should. I’d never claim perfection.
But God’s righteousness covers me and my sins. I am not self-righteous; I am God-righteous. Therefore, can I claim the promises made to the upright, the righteous? Can I expect the blessings that come from being in right standing with God? Why do I doubt?
Something niggles at me regarding my negative thinking. My speech and drama professors trained me to notice the negative—to critique and to judge for the sake of improvement. I thought it had to do with following the rules. My acting class prof, for example, taught us to always “cheat out,” meaning to keep one’s body open toward the audience. So, when our play director told a fellow actor to begin his dialogue with his back to the audience, I rebelled. “He’s not following the rules,” I thought. But he was following artistic license. He was able to make an exception to the rule for the sake of the mood in a scene. The rule became, then, a generality, a guideline.
When I critique a student’s speech or grade an English paper, do I self-righteously point out the flaws? Or do I approach the work thinking, “How can I help the student improve?”
How do I change my negative thinking patterns? For me, step #1 is mind renewal through inner healing prayer. But that only gets me to a neutral zone. It removes the trigger and brings me to peace. But how do I move to the positive side of the sliding scale resulting in a joyful attitude? Positive thinking looks to me like changing my thoughts from “Ick, it’s raining” to “It’s okay if it rains” to “Thank You, God, for the rain.”
Some positive thinking, however, sounds like a disbelief in reality—like declaring in a thunderstorm that the sun is shining. It feels false, untrue—like my belief in something can change my world. Maybe it can; maybe it can’t. Joel Olstein touts the mantra, “Positive things are going to happen.” But it’s more than just telling myself that everything is fine and good. It’s actually trusting God whether it is or isn’t.
I think Pollyana had it right. Instead of whining, “I’m grumpy because I only had three hours of sleep last night,” I can declare out loud, “Thank You, Lord, for three hours of sleep to refresh me.”
Is this a choice we make? How do we turn the train around to start practicing the positive? By sheer will power? By prayer? By practice? How do I get on the train that’s traveling in the opposite direction from everyone else? It depends on what the destination is. If I can see light up ahead, I’d rather be moving in that direction than toward a burnt-out bridge.
And so, I start with prayer: Today, Lord, I want to begin to practice the habit of praise, gratitude, and positive thinking. I need your help to remind me.
Yesterday my youngest daughter asked me how I was doing.
“Ok,” I responded.
“Just okay?” she asked.
Her question caught me up short. I’d been dwelling on how sore my right big toe felt. But the moment she challenged me, I reflected and answered, “No, I’m great, thanks. It’s a perfect day with a perfect breeze, and I have clothes and food and shelter and a loving family. What else could a person ask for?” And suddenly the throbbing toe was no longer my focus.
The danger I see in my response is that if I deny the pain, I’m not being honest with myself, and I may not take care of the problem. Those who are positive all the time are suspect in my opinion. Are they living in reality? I think pain has to be acknowledged and embraced, not denied. However, we don’t like being around negative people because they can bring us down. Where’s the balance?
I have a “positive” friend. I never see her down, never complaining no matter how much pain she’s in. I do know that’s because of a vow she made to not be like her complaining mother, but . . . it makes it very easy to be around her.
Not complaining. Maybe that’s the key. One of my mom’s favorite sayings is, “There’s a difference between complaining and stating a fact, and I’m just stating a fact.” The attitude and the tone of voice can reflect the difference.
When someone asks, “How are you doing?” they’re not usually asking for an “organ recital.” Do you lie and say, “Fine” even when you’re not? Or perhaps they’re asking how your spirit or attitude is. If you’re down, do you admit it? If hurting physically, but feeling up mentally, can you, in truth, say, “Fine”?
I called a friend yesterday and asked how she was, and she admitted, “My heart is heavy today …” That was honest. And it gave me a chance to encourage her.
So … I think when I’m asked, “How ya doin’?” I can legitimately pause, look inward, find the joy spot and return with, “All is well.”
Here’s one friend’s approach which may contain faulty thinking: When I think of the best thing that can happen and it doesn’t occur, I get disappointed; so instead, I think of the worst thing that can happen, and when it doesn’t occur, I am pleased.
Is there a middle ground? Realism? But that flies in the face of the positive thinker.
Maybe I’m mixing up my ideas. One is about goals, the other about the present. What’s the balance? Be realistic about the present, optimistic about the future.
Maybe the answer is not in plus vs. minus but inward vs. outward thinking. How do I get the focus off self (which is a pretty small topic)? Perhaps I can avoid the question, “How ya doin’” by responding with, “Lucky to have you for a friend!”
In the Pursuit of Peace 