They are elusive. They are just out of reach. They are our goals.
They’re not bad, wrong, or sin, but they are growing bigger than they should in our lives.
We just want one moment of peace. Craving a quiet space, we are dying for the endless questions to stop. Needing our own bubble, we look for the moments we are not being crawled on by toddlers. Wanting to breathe one free breath, we cannot wait until the endless taxi stops come to an end.
We want to be good enough, and if we’re honest we want perfection. The children need to be precious dolls, the house needs to spotless, your marriage needs to be rip-your-clothes-off-smoking-hot as well as deep and meaningful, and your clothes, hair, and makeup need to look like the cover of a magazine.
We also want it to be like we imagined. Family gatherings should be like (or not like) they were when we were children. Our weight was supposed to be “this number” by now. Marriage was going to be romantic and fulfilling. Finances were to be balanced on a better scale than the wonky one that tips at every change.
These things aren’t wrong to want, but they are dangerous when we begin to make them a priority over Jesus.
If we had the peace, would we still want Jesus?
If we finally mastered perfection, would we need Jesus at all?
If everything met with our presumptions, would we find anything lacking and turn to Him?
And on the days when peace is nowhere to be seen, perfection blows up in our faces, or our presumptions are never met, do we want those things more than we want Jesus to meet us in the messiness?
May we crave his presence more than His blessings, and Him more than His things.
I want Him, but it will cost me. Will I take up my torrential, messed-up, unpredictable cross and follow? Will I allow the cross to remove my striving for things that will never be found apart from Him anyway?
I pray so.