The Pursuit of Happiness

         Imagining my kids as adults (which I do more and more as they get older) makes me think about my parenting. What's my goal? What am I doing today that pays into that goal? So, so many parents in my generation say the same thing "Whatever they do, I just want my kids to be happy." This strikes me as a kind, benevolent thought but incredibly shallow and unrealistic. There are a few things out there in this direction but at least Google has a ton of books and articles and forums all directed at raising happy kids. We want them to enjoy what they do all the time and to graduate from an Ivy League and not have to struggle for one minute of one day.  I don't know about you, but if I did what made me happy all the time, my life would be, well, crap.  I wouldn't have a marriage, at least not a good one. Having kids? Forget about it. My idea of a good time doesn't involve stretch marks and multiple babies blessed with the enormous Putney head.

          This won't shock my kids in the least, but I don't really want them to be happy. Happiness is fleeting, along with beauty and a bladder that stays clamped when you laugh. People do all kinds of selfish things in the name of happiness and they end up sad and bitter. 

           What do I want for my kids?

            For my little sprite of a daughter:

                   I wish you joy. I wish you contentment. In whatever life God leads you into. Whether you walk the runways of Paris or mop the bathrooms at Shell. If marriage is in your lineup, I wish you a strong one. One with laughter that makes you breathless and tears that make you closer to each other. One that is built on something more lasting than passion and lust. I wish you a husband who enjoys you and kisses you on the nose and cries with a deep, unspeakable joy when your children are born.  I wish you the patience to mop the same floor day after day (Fine! week after week) and to fold the same clothes. I wish I could take away all the insecurities about your body that will you one day face. But I can't. And maybe it's for the best anyway. You will realize it's the pursuit of God in you that makes you beautiful. And I hope you realize it before you chase down your youth in the form of overpriced jeans and collagen lip treatments. 

              For my sons, one quite serious about life and one who wakes up laughing:

                     I wish you joy. I wish you contentment. In whatever life God leads you into.  Jack, if you do become a cardiologist, I wish you steady hands and a healthy dose of humility. If life turns out differently, I wish you the foresight to change direction and listen to His voice, not your own. For you both, I wish you the maturity to be men when it's easier to stay boys. If you get married, I wish you kind wives. Wives that support you and find you adorable, even after 30 years of marriage. Wives that think their mother in law is the best person they've ever met. I wish you a servant heart, one that empties the trash without being asked and slows its steps to match a toddler's. I wish you integrity and courage, to pay your taxes and love your families, even if you're not happy with either.

              Happiness? Eh. That feeling scampers off after the last present is unwrapped or your favorite restaurant is closed unexpectedly. Doing the will of God? Ah, that's something completely different. And that feeling?  It puts its roots down deep, in a place where weather and parties and mirrors cannot reach.