Cheerful Duties

"There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy." --Robert Luis Stevenson, "An Apology for Idlers"

Like pretty much everything in my life, I've made a goal of happiness. (Yes, there have been years when "smile" opened and closed the to-do list). Rays of sunshine add warmth and light even when they are fleeting. Walking to campus in the winter during my first year at BYU I thought I would freeze to death. I slept in my down filled coat. Occasionally, though, the sun glinted on the snow and I would dash out to meet it suddenly filled with hope. I never felt completely deserted with faith in the sun.

We are supposed to be the light of the world. Yesterday I was a dark cloud with too much rain. Levi didn't know what to do with me. Today I've been cloudy with a chance of rain. Regardless of the temperature or season, I'd like to be sunny.

Stevenson reflects on how happiness and pleasure multiply. When you see a happy person, your happiness increases. Thus, he argues, we all have a duty to be happy and increase the joy in the world. Is that possible? I like to think that it is.

Most of my spiritual moments manifest themselves through streams of happiness. If it is our duty to be happy, is it God's as well?

Is part of being the savory salt spreading a feeling of well-being and possibility? Can hope thrive through darkness if it knows there is a light somewhere?

Perhaps I am not capable of being the sun (frankly, no--only the Son can do that) but I'd like to be a lamp or candle. On a generator. One that doesn't melt or flicker out when you most need it. Even when I'm frazzled and unorganized and frustrated, I'd like to grant a little flame existence.

If we "are the light of the world" don't we all have to reflect each other?