Happiness is Coming Home Again

Matthew and Margaret are married. I think they'll be really happy together and I have great hopes for them. They've been an important couple for me for the simple reason that at first, I didn't think they were particularly compatible or complementary -- I think when they started dating, it was a shocker for a lot of us -- but the real truth is that they are two big-hearted, compassionate, earnest, selfless, and vulnerable people who love each other and love God very much, and that seems to have counted much more than anything eharmony or mattdunnthematchmaker could've produced. More than any other secondary traits, from what I've seen, their marriage is built on the fruits of the Spirit and their pursuit after God. That sort of perfect match, unpredicted by people like me, is literally ordained by God and His work in their hearts, and it was very cool to be there this past weekend and see that.

My favorite story with Margaret is from sophomore year when I had a ridiculous cold, and she gave me a hug and made me some tomato soup and some nice conversation, despite the fact that she was ridiculously busy. And I asked her in a head-achy, congested stupor when she was going to find a nice boy and settle down. I ask a lot of forward questions, but I got my answer to this one.

There is a musical called You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown that contains the line, "Happiness is coming home again," and that was incredibly true this weekend. I have never, ever been the type to get homesick, but if I were, I'm most homesick when I'm home on a brief visit and know I have to leave soon. There's a certain tragedy to coming back to a place and knowing that something, probably you, has changed. What ran through Moses's mind when he came back to Egypt after 40 years? Did he experience a heartbreaking divide in his soul between doing what God wanted him to and throwing down his stick and running back to the family he grew up with? What about Ruth -- was her break from Moab and the land of her family as clean and determined as she made it seem to Naomi, or was she acting out of deferent obedience to follow the people and ways of God? How did Jesus feel while He was here? He commented that he "had no place to lay His head," but also wept over Jerusalem, as if longing for a restoration over a dear relationship that had changed. Was Jesus longing for His return to the Father? Or was He at home on the earth, sharing good times and bad with His dear friends Mary and Martha and Lazarus?

The great comfort of believing in Christ and His game plan, at least as far as this topic is concerned, is that it's always "see you later" and never "goodbye" with dear friends in Christ. We rest assured to our reunion with God and with each other in heaven and eternal happiness, and for that reason, we endure with cheerfulness the mess and burden of our time on this earth. If God weren't real, if I didn't believe that, I don't think I'd be living responsibly -- I think I'd spend every waking moment with the people I love, doing the things I love. To go to work every day, to put in extra hours, to steal moments from friends and family and fulfillment in an unbearably finite existence is a severely depressing thought.

And when I think about the comfort and hope that God provides, I have a habit of falling into objectivist's guilt. Are my agnostic friends right? Was Pascale's Wager? Do I mainly believe because I like these prospects better than the hopelessness of the alternative ones? And I think a lot of Christians want to say, no, this hope that God provides is actually the verifiable truth, and not entirely feel-good, and as a result, sometimes guilt accompanies the receipt of God's comfort and goodness.

I do value apologetics, I do value critical thinking, and I do value the objective search for truth. But I think I also really, really want to believe. And if God were as good and as real as they say He is, then wouldn't that absolutely be my response to that incredible truth?