Two things are funny here, well, not necessarily "funny," maybe ironic or maybe...it doesn't matter anyway:
1.(below)
I'm writing about someone else's salvation in a semi-envious way. As if I don't know Christ. As if I do not love Him or acknowledge He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. But that's not the case. I am all for God.
But I'm at this place in my walk with the Lord where life is stale. Don't get me wrong here, I am taken aback by so much natural wonder that I know to be His Creation. And in those moments I do nothing but revel. I sit back and look to the sky like I'm watching a fireworks show. But for me right now, it's like the finale is over, the crowd is going home, and I'm that little boy on the 4th not wanting the night to be over.
I've always been that little boy. I've always put up a fuss about leaving what's been fun, what I've fallen in love with, what I've made my own. Disney World, that was mine. My parents are lucky they were able to get me home. England, I laid claim to that country like I was going to colonize it. Guess they picked up on my aristocratic plan though, since they deported me. And being in her arms; I'm selfish when it comes to those hugs, especially when we're at the airport made to depart one another like this love we live out has cruel undertones. So we rest together standing up, bags packed on her back dropped to the floor. We must be the only still ones amidst a raging world. And I keep hold of that calm among the waves selfishly making her procrastinate the hassles of traveling.
I've never grown out of that Elmer's glue stage of making Kindergarten masterpieces and finding them stuck to my hands at the end of class.
I probably talk myself out of any momentous occasion ever being over. The old adage goes, "All good things much come to an end." I don't believe it. It should go something like this:
All good things continue on, but we disallow the constant good.
We capture goodness on a snap to snapshot level. We travel from one good to the next. In between we are businessmen, Starbucks baristas, 1st Grade school teachers, balding yet hip-to-the-2000s pastors, the unemployed enjoying home life and sewing wedding dresses, and all other professions/walks of life that make this Western World continue on in an orderly fashion. Then we go from street corner back to our routines then back to the corners to get our fix. We live out these nostalgic nights at the beach with good friends for as long as we can. Unfortunately the night always has the sobering undertone of having to get up for church in the morning. "I've fallen asleep one too many times in church," you say to yourself. So you set a curfew you keep breaking because you're waiting for that one moment to furnish that will forever stick in your memory. (True story)
And when that good is not around we relive our memories as if they're playing out in real form today. Problem with that, we're only an audience not the lead. And it may put a smile on our face. And it may put an extra hop-skip-and-jump into our step - as it always does for me - but I must ask, "How long will it really last?" I hate to be the one to burst your bubble, to totally dash the reverie spinning its 8mm reel that's projected out through that window in front of you to a blue sky backdrop, but bro, you can't go scrounging around just looking for a smile.
This doesn't fit a search and rescue. It's you forcing what is not happening. Forcing happiness instead of going about life normally and allowing happiness to commandeer a moment of your time.
It's like reaching for the masterbating card rather than waiting for the God-given joys of intimacy with your wife after the wedding day.
It's like lining up shots on the table, shot gunning the Budweisers, making the latest Pro Evo game into a drinking game, and then finding yourself on the toilet both releasing your bowels and leaning over to the sink to vomit.
It's you bumming old cigarettes off the ground and trying to get the last hit of nicotine from someone else's fag that wasn't smoked all the way down to the filter.
That's rank bro, messed up.
I'm being a buzz kill and telling you not to live out your days vicariously through that younger-you you're fondly watching on old VHS tapes because there has to be something more.
And I'm the type that won't settle with yesterday being the best. I'm telling you, there's more to life, there's more to God, there's more to God and you walking together in life.
There's more
Reread this; I know there's more:
The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. (Matthew 13:44)
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