Sing Anyway

Ordinarily, I tend to dismiss books found in the self-help section of my local Barnes and Noble, especially if they reference Oprah in any way, shape, or form.  So I'm kind of surprised by how much I've been enjoying and thinking about The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin.  Subtitled Or, Why I spent a year Trying to Sing in the Morning, Clean My Closets, Fight Right, Read Aristotle, and Generally Have More Fun, the book details the author's attempts to test drive theories about how to be happier.  You can find it in the self-help section of any book store and, yes, she mentions Lady O.

It seemed self-indulgent to consider pursuing happiness as a goal, or happiness for its own sake.  I've actually told people I care about that if they pursue happiness as their primary goal, it will ultimately elude them.  Shouldn't we be pursuing holiness, godliness, justice, mercy--all those God-oriented kinds of things?  Yet another writer whose blog I stalk with regularity kept raving about the book so I decided to pick it up and see if I could figure out why she was so jazzed.

Here's the thing.  Although Rubin's book grants equal time to theories from eastern religions to generic spirituality to Christian thought, I kept being reminded of biblical truth.  One example was her suggestion to sing in the morning.  I remember very little of what I (supposedly) learned in most of my college courses, but the idea of cognitive dissonance which was introduced in my Intro to Psych class has stuck with me.  Loosely defined, it means that a person can't hold two conflicting ideas in his or her head at the same time.  It is impossible to remain angry while I'm laughing.  I can't continue to hold a grudge against someone while praying for him or her.  I can't remain worried or fearful while singing.

Lately, I've been dwelling in the valley of fear.  My worries about how badly I may or may not have messed up my kids and whether or not they will go on to live happy, healthy lives tend to wake me up and keep me awake in the wee hours of the morning.  I think about the culture they are navigating and the landmines to faithful living that the enemy of their souls has strewn throughout it.  Fear combined with sleep deprivation has all too often tumbled out of my mouth early in the day as anger and nagging, setting the tone for more anger and conflict.  A word of advice to anyone tempted to nag a teenage boy first thing in the morning about his homework, his chores, the condition of his bedroom, the tone of his voice, or any of the other myriad things a teenage boy can and will do to get under your skin and make you worry about the condition of his soul:  Don't.  Nothing good can come of it.

Cognitive dissonance.  Singing in the morning.  I can't simultaneously nag my son while singing Standing on the Promises.  For one thing, my mouth is busy.  I can't express worry and fear while Blessed Assurance is in my heart and on my tongue.  Singing in the morning chases away anger and tension and anxiety and invites joy and blessing and peace in to replace them.

I was thinking about these things this morning while reading about King Jehoshaphat in 2 Chronicles 20.  Scripture recounts that when the king heard that his enemies were poised for attack, he was afraid and set his face to seek the Lord.  God told him that that battle was not his, it was the Lord's.  Jehoshaphat was told to stand firm and see the Lord's deliverance and to appoint singers to go before the army singing:

Give thanks to the Lord, for his steadfast love endures forever.

And as the men began to sing and praise, God set an ambush for the enemies of His people.

Although my singing may not ever win me a ticket to Hollywood, it reminds me that the battle is the Lord's and this makes me happier.  My faith may be weak and I may not feel like it, but I'll sing anyway.