Mosaic (May 3)

“If you could have heaven—with no sickness, with all the friends you ever had on earth, all the food you ever liked, all the leisure activities you ever enjoyed, all the natural beauties you ever saw, all the physical pleasures you ever tasted, and no human conflict or natural disasters—could you be satisfied with heaven?”—John Piper

Much of my crisis work involves people facing intense stress, conflict, or painful circumstances. The natural human response is often, If only my situation were different, then I could be happy.

If they didn’t make demands on me…

If they hadn’t broken up with me…

If this burden were lifted…

And while I deeply wish I could take away their suffering, I have to ask: Would we really be content if we had everything we ever wanted?

King Solomon wrestled with that question. He had it all—wealth, wisdom, pleasure, power. Yet he still concluded:

“I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind.” (Ecclesiastes 1:14)

We chase so many things to try to satisfy us—success in our work, achievements in our children, more money, more adventures, more stuff. It’s the default mode of the human heart: we drift toward idols, toward anything that promises fulfillment apart from God.

Of course, there’s real joy in the good gifts God gives.

I laugh with my son when he shares all the “funnies” from school:“If you took the wings off a fly, would it be a walk?”“I bet I can make you say ‘nineteen.’”
My heart feels giddy when my oldest when she lands a solid block or scores the game-winning point.
I smile at the friendships growing in my youngest’s life and the bond she shares with her bestie.
I find joy in the strength and support of my husband as we navigate life together.

We enjoy family vacations, time at the lake, and simple moments of delight.But even in the midst of those gifts, brokenness finds its way in. Beauty seems disrupted by hardship.

And here’s the truth: simply erasing the pain wouldn’t bring us closer to Christ.What draws us near is learning to lean—not on our strength, but on his. It’s the daily practice of preaching the gospel to ourselves in the middle of messy circumstances, of clinging to hope when clarity feels distant. The persevering belief that there's beauty in chaos.

Having everything we could want will never satisfy us.Because true joy isn’t a fleeting feeling—it’s the deep awareness of God’s grace and favor, the sweetness of communion with him.

And without that, we remain restless.

What are you holding onto today as the key to your happiness?

Articles

Four Things I Try to Pray Every Day for My Children | Cindy Matson

Are your four things the same?

Before It Breaks: The Value of Early Counselling | Tim Challies

Here's a few quick reasons to seek out counselling sooner than later, before you hit the point of crisis.

Your Body is No Mistake: God's Good Design in Our Design | Charisse Compton

"Your body, as much as your soul, is one of God’s glorious works. It bears the unmistakable signature of the divine artist so that, like creation, your body “declare[s] the glory of God” (Psalm 19:1). When was the last time meditating on your body elicited worship?"

The Sacerd Honor of Being Witness to Suffering | Melissa Edgington

This article speaks deeply to the heart of why I do the work I do. Whether in the ER or the counselling room, it’s a sacred honor to walk alongside others in their suffering. It’s not easy—especially when the pain is prolonged—but bearing witness with compassion and presence is a privilege I don’t take lightly. I hope it encourages you to consider where you might be called to quietly come alongside someone in their hardship—not to fix or rush them through it, but simply to be present. There is deep beauty in bearing with one another, as Christ invites us to do.