Oh, the restlessness!
Oh, the stretching against the confines of life, like a full term baby in the womb!
These days have been heavy with blistering heat and wretched restlessness. I know deep in my spirit that this feeling is coming from a place of ungratefulness and discontentment… that this is just a symptom of a far more devastating disease- the disease of not satisfying myself in God alone. I look for satisfaction in seemingly EVERY other place, sort of like how my six year old child will look everywhere but my eyes when I am trying to correct him.
Yes, it started in the Garden of Eden… Adam and Eve discontentedly wanting the ONE thing God said they couldn’t have… and now here we are, all these many generations later, grumbling and disbelieving His goodness. His sufficiency.
I scour the real estate websites. Denver. Portland. Reno. Seattle. San Luis Obispo. Kansas City… I mean, surely I would find my satisfaction waiting for me in one of these places, right? It’s a GEOGRAPHY issue, I tell myself. And just look at all that square footage and those beautiful mature trees! Ooooh, a cul–de-sac! That’s what I need! It’s just far too hot to find joy here. If I could just live somewhere more beautiful, more temperate, I could feel fulfilled.
It all sounds so riDONKulous when I type it out here. But I have REALLY been thinking and believing these things, as if they were actual answers to the cavernous, carnivorous longing in my heart!
Perhaps a new house here in town would do it. Or maybe one out in the country where my boys could roam for hours, you know… when it wasn’t too hot or too cold. Yeah! That’s the ticket!
Meanwhile, the Bible that I moved out to my coffee table so it would be physically in my line of sight everyday collects more layers of dust to match my arid spirit. I pace and clean and rearrange and try not to berate my children too often.
I know what the answer is. I just need to lift my chin and make eye contact with Him. Yet I continue to look at my feet and my house and my children and my husband and my book and my TV show and the Internet until I go completely NUMB. I know His eyes would be full of love and compassion and empathy if I could just make myself look there, but I can’t seem to make myself DO IT. I choose instead to go to bed numb and wake up numb and dream of far away places.
So… I settle for rearranging my furniture again. I do it every single time I start to feel this way… like life is so monotonous and laborious that, as my friend Bethany so aptly put it the other day, you start to wonder if you’ve woken up in the movie ‘Groundhog Day’.
Lord, save me. Quickly! I repent of believing that you are not good enough. I repent of trying to satisfy myself with the things of this world. I repent of being ungrateful towards you… of basically telling you that what your Son did on the cross wasn’t quite enough for me.
It was enough. It IS enough. And it will be enough until the day You take me home.