Confession XLVIII

Whoever works his land will have plenty
of bread,
but he who follows worthless pursuits
will have plenty of poverty.
- Proverbs 28: 19

I am tired. Let me just throw that out there.

There is nothing more tiresome than not doing what's right. And I know from experience because I have messed up so many times. And on the inside I just want everything to be okay. I want the world to be perfect. And then I want to honor the Lord. I want to bring His name glory. I want to remain faithful. I always want to stick by His side - always.

But I'm like a little boy who walks down the street with his mom. Hand-in-hand doing some errands. Enjoying the wonderful day. And we walk past a toy store. There's a brand new shiny red fire engine in the display. "I want it," the thought rolls over and over in my head. I'm so taken by this wonderful mystery of how some toy maker shrunk down a fire truck. I always hear them roar on by, disturbing classical suburbia on a bright summer's day.

"I want it," like a Wurlitzer skipping.

"I want it." And I stare through the pristine plate glass dirtying it with my breath. I am in awe at the magic and cannot be unstuck. But mom's tugging at my arm. She doesn't realize that in this moment I am immovable, impervious to any beckoning or calling or slapping upside the head as if to say, "You have enough toys already. Now come along and be a good boy."

Those last words dig deep because I know I am rebellious at this point. I'm not listening to a forward progression into the day. I'm too taken by what I can't have to want to move on. Because all I want is that shrunk down shiny red fire engine. Then life would be that much more wonderful.

But life's already wonderful at this stage and that's what I don't realize. I don't realize how good I have it. How I can go into the fridge at any moment and cut myself a whoppingly-large piece of marble cheese cake to ease a rumbling belly. Or how I can go to a job each day with friendly partners and caffeine addicted customers; I don't realize how I can make a person's day by simply serving a cup of Boston Coffee to her.

And I do not realize the entirety of the beauty the girl I'm falling in love with actually holds. How from oceans away she remains on my mind and gets me excited for tomorrow. Because when she arrives in my arms I'll give her the world and bring her the stars and dance with her on lakes and picnic at sunrise so I can hand her the day. Then we can walk together under the watch of summer love. Learning to trust in a love that never fails.

Unfortunately, I fail more often than I'd care to admit. And I am always left wanting once all is said and done. I can only bang on that glass window. Put my finger prints all over it. Stand like a statue firm in my grip claiming that the fire engine reality right in front of me is truly the real world. But all it is, is a shrunk down miniature version of what actually exists. It is only a perverse display of all that God has for me. Something that I can only play with, but not actually live.

You see, all I can do with this fire engine is race it back and forth on the living room rug. Maybe I can ram it into some Lincoln Log house or a tower made from building blocks. But it's not actually the real thing. I can't actually fight fires with it. I can't come to the rescue of someone in need. I can't live the life of a true fireman in a world of fallacy: with toy trucks and toy houses and with a toy's imagination for what this life is truly all about.

But I still stand motionless ignoring all the "Come on's" and "We've got to go's" and the "It's time to leave's." I ignore the truth of the matter: that I am idle and pursuing what is not real. I do nothing about this unreality, this fake world, this falsehood-driven life; and I let it sweep me away for momentary bliss. For an escape. For a "Wish I had this" - and that's called being selfish.

In doing so, I let go of all that I love as if a friend went overboard and there I stood with the Life Saver in hand. I throw it out. Heart racing. Wild breaths. Heightened emotions. And near hysteria. I struggle to pull him in. I fight the waves in a cataclysmic Tug of War. But my strength runs out. At the first signs of depletion I drop the line and walk after what seems easiest to obtain.

I forget reality and live in my own reality.

Because reality takes a fight. It takes all the strength you have. Sucks all the breath right out of you. And can leave you exhausted. But it yields wonder. Adventure. You fly through turbulence. Coming out of the clouds and barely avoiding mountains. But it gives you the sense of living life to the fullest. And it allows you to experience all that an Almighty Being - God - has for you while managing to put one foot in front of the other and walk among constantly failing beings - humans, us.

So reality takes work. At least you won't be left wanting in the end.

Now, if you can, get up and walk on; life's still here for you to experience.

Encounter. Your. God.