The Joy of Living

In Edmund Morris' robust biography, Theodore Rex, which chronicles Theodore Roosevelt's ascendency into the office of President and his first term, we get a window into the mind of the man.

At this point, Roosevelt has solemnly sworn his Oath of Office, shortly after President McKinley's assassination, and has begun to reign in what would be his first term. After a couple years, Roosevelt embarks on a massive train tour of the nation. One of the stops on his tour was through the Dakotas.

Morris writes, "When the train drew near the Badlands, darkness already had descended. The President went onto this rear platform and watched coulees etch themselves into the grassland, black out of silver, like a giant printer's block. Medora lay the deepest cut of all, a clutch of houses by the sand-choked Little Missouri. Here, twenty years before, he had come to shoot his first buffalo, and found himself "at heart as much as Westerner as an Easterner." (217).

Since Roosevelt's first time in the Dakotas, some 20 years and a few inches of waistline before, much had changed. Perhaps the biggest change was that, now, the Dakotas were split into North and South. Roosevelt's trip through Medora was as brief as the train could make it, and he reminisced somewhat frustrated in his nostalgia. Roosevelt remembers longingly,

"It was still the Wild West in those days, the Far West...It was a land of vast silent spaces, of lovely rivers, and of plains where the wild game stared at the passing horseman. It was a land of scattered ranches, of herds of long-horned cattle, and reckless riders who unmoved looked in the eyes of life or of death. In that land we lived a free and hardy life, with horse and rifle. We worked under the scorching midsummer sun, when the wide plains shimmered and wavered in the heat; and we knew the freezing misery of riding night guard round the cattle in the late fall round-up. In the soft springtime the stars were glorious in our eyes each night before we fell asleep; and in the winter we rode through blinding blizzards, when the driven snow-dust burnt our faces...We knew toil and hardship and hunger and thirst; and we saw men die violent deaths as they worked among the horses and cattle, or fought in evil feuds with one another; but we felt the beat of hardy life in our veins, and ours was the glory of work and the joy of living." (218).

My goodness. Here is the President of the United States -- at that time in 1903 one of the most famous and powerful men in the entire world -- and yet Roosevelt's pen aches with longing for a day gone by. Roosevelt aches for the days when there was 'hardy living' and "Ours was the glory of work and the joy of living."

What about us?

The non-stop progress and advancement of the modern era have led us to more population, more technology, more access, more information, and more connectivity than ever before. We could say, we have more power than previous generations of humans have ever had. We can know, we can act, and we can order our lives to serve our needs. I mean, we can have pretty much anything from food to groceries to pet food delivered to our front door. Now, if only someone would bring it up to us! We have more television content to watch than we could squeeze into our entire lifetimes. We have smartphones with mega-access to news, sports, entertainment, and the opinions of others glued to our hands and eyeballs at all times. But have we drifted?

Is ours the glory of work and the joy of living?

Perhaps the dawn of a New Year softens us to be receptive to the reality that we aren't satisfied. Talk of resolutions and the rubber band snap of party hats clears the way for us to consider our deeper longings. We can actually open up and admit the truth - we didn't expect our lives to turn out this way. We're longing for something, even if we can't quite place it. We are searching, grasping about, trying to find our way. That's something that the effects of technology stimulation and binge-watching TV shows can't quite erase from our hearts.

We are all seeking for something to be that spark of change in our lives. Perhaps a new relationship will change things. A reconciled relationship with a family member. That promotion looming like an oasis in the desert. A Master's degree. Better fitness leading to romance. A new car. A dog. "If I could just have that one thing, my life would be different."

But will it? What if we're actually longing for something else? Something that moves beyond the external or material comforts of this world. Something beyond personal achievement or even fruitful interpersonal relationship.

Steven Curtis Chapman writes in his poem, Echoes of Eden:

What is it about a kiss that makes me feel like this? What is it that makes my heart beat fast when I'm in your arms? What is it about your touch that amazes me so much? How is it that your sweet smile can get me through the hardest mile? What's the magic in your eyes that brings the love in me alive? What is it about this dance, the sweetness of our romance, that makes me feel this way?

These are the echoes of Eden. Reflections of what we were created for. Hints of the passion and freedom, that waits on the other side of Heaven's door. These are the echoes of Eden.

How is it the sky turns grey anytime you're far away? What is it that makes me sad anytime you're feeling bad? What is it about this night, the music and the candlelight, that makes me feel this way?

This poem, partly focused on romantic love, gets to the point. All good things we experience in this life that are in some sense, not quite fully satisfying. They point to something greater. Every pain, grief, injustice, ache, and longing points to a good yet unattained. Teddy Roosevelt doesn't long necessarily for hardy living, work, and joy. He longs for Eden.

What if every good and bad thing in this life is an echo of Eden? 

What is it about Eden, then?

Eden is that picturesque and shameless place of perfect relationship with God. Have you ever felt fully known and fully loved?

As Chapman writes, Eden is "Reflections of what we were created for."

Eden is life in God's presence, where shame and sin do not exist because only purity, love, and light dwell there. Deep down, we are waiting for the 'hints of passion and freedom' that exist only when living in the presence of God. However, if you're feeling bruised and beaten down by life, and unsure how you could ever get back to God, you've come to the right place. Your seeking can be rewarded, by finding Christ.

There is one way, one path back to God. It is through the Son of God, the Lord Jesus Christ, who became like us so that he could die for our sins that he might redeem us and resurrect us. Jesus brings us back to God and makes us acceptable in God's presence so we can be restored and move toward what our hearts have been yearning for all along. So Jesus tells us, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14:6 ESV).

Life in union with Christ begins to restore our humanity and satisfy those deep echoes of Eden in our hearts. We start to live like we were made to be. And we start to experience the glory of work, and the joy of living for God and in God's presence. Christ makes that possible, and all he does is ask us to come to him in faith.

As we head into 2020 and a year full of new beginnings, great plans and much yearning, I pray that you would find the joy of living to be yours, as Christ gives you a new beginning and moves into a center place in your life.