I know the title of this post might remind some of Freud's book title The Interpretation of Dreams, but this post is actually provoked by a piece of Scripture I have memorized. The Psalmist writes "My soul is cast down within me, therefore I remember you." (Ps. 42:6) As I considered the spiritual import for this verse, I also thought about memories of my various "happy places" throughout my life. Some of them are as follows:
Early Childhood: I remember (even in my earliest years) my mom rocking me to sleep in the dark of our living room in a particular green-cushioned rocking chair. She would whisper things as she lulled me to sleep.
Middle Childhood: When things got hairy at home, my mom would take my younger brother and I to the hospital with her (she worked the late night shift at the ER). My brother and I would spend hours engaging in adventures, like crawling underneath the vending machines for change. My favorite practice was taking some of that change and buying each of the day's newspapers.
Teenage: Under the various monikers, I was able to develop a new identity at both school and as a new Christian in my church youth group. At school, I got involved in drama and started going by the nickname "S-Dawg" in the backstage green room. At church, I participated went on extended bike trips and traveled to summer camps and became the hyperactive "Smallz" to my peers and counselors.
College: My moniker changed again, this time to "Stevo," and I became the crazy entertainer who engaged in hardcore wrestling, climbed telephone poles, jumped out of second floor windows into the snow and stole mascots from bedrooms in other dorms while the inhabitants of said bedrooms were sleeping. My happy place there was the "Shawnee House" where the fun continued unabated.
Seminary: At my apartment, followed by the "Queenston House," my label changed to "Roberts," and I again was the class clown (but somewhat more restrained). Some days, I would pull off pranks. Other days, I would just enjoy a deep discussion with cigars in the thick of the night.
Young Adult: Perhaps my two greatest happy places of all time--the guest house at the Nkhoma Misison in Malawi, and CHBOLC (my initial chaplain course at Ft. Jackson). At each of these places, I was no longer a captive to my past. I could go by any moniker and be free to be myself without any facades. At CHBOLC, I could be the fastest runner, an appreciated PT (physical training) coach, and a happy warrior for the Christian faith. In Malawi, I felt the power of Livingstone's words, "In the work I truly live; In this work I hope to die." I felt empowered to serve Christ's Church and loved it!
Of course, my happy place today is where it should have been all along: home. More specifically, it is sitting in front of a movie with my best friend under one arm and my greatest gift in my other arm. Wherever I travel with those two, it is home. And as I reflect upon the common strand interwoven through all these happy places, it was safety. In each of these places, as opposed to many others, I felt at least relatively safe--safe to be vulnerable, to experience highs and lows, to grow, to even gradually discard the moniker and be content to be a new creation in Christ.
In that brings me back to that initial verse. In a world marked by tears, where "my tears have been my food day and night" (Ps. 42:3), we need a happy place--a safe place. And that is why we remember God. He is our refuge in times of trouble. His wings are our comfort and dwelling place. (Ps. 91) In particular, I live "in view of Christ's mercy." (Rom. 12:1). My happy place is found in my union with Jesus Christ, with whom my life is now hidden, only to be exposed with Him in glory when He appears (Col. 3:1-4). In that day of blessed rest, there will be no more shame, no more tears, no more hiding. My Spirit-hewn memory will become my eternal reality. And, whatever I face this year or in the years to come, I find increasing comfort and joy in this precious happy place.
