Sunday, February 10, 2013


I’m reading a book entitled The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking. I’m only about 20 pages into the book so I have no right to say anything at all, positive or negative, about the book. But I can say that I bought it because the title was amusing. I’ve bought books in the past for much weaker reasons than that.
Blah, blah, blah . . . positive thinking bores me, seems so doggone. . . um, positive. Women who wrap themselves in Saran Wrap, the Mary Kay champion sales people who drive pink Cadillacs, Joel Osteen whose teeth are unnaturally white, that dental hygienist who talks the entire time she’s cleaning your teeth. You know who they are—the saccharine cheery people who seem like the embodiment of smiley faces, blow-up dolls overdosed on Zoloft. They give me a massive headache.

Then there’s me. I curse, I go through the drive-through at McDonald’s just to smell the French fries, I tell stories of heartbreak and misery, I presume things are bad and getting worse, I love days that are overcast and drizzly, and I love Jesus because He saved me knowing that I would never be able to accomplish it myself.
There is a lot of bad shit in the world. There are blizzards and tsunamis, wars and disease, and horrible people who kill people I love. But here’s the thing—in the midst of the bad shit there also is wonder and kindness and grace. There is a God who loves us and there is the beauty of nature and people whose spirits soar. So in the midst of these blessings, why would I focus on the pain and bitterness? Why see scarcity in the midst of so much abundance?

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