Wishing...

Andrea sent me the post below, from Stuff Christians Like (Jon Acuff).  A great read.  Of course, God has already had me focusing on this very topic - living in the present instead of always wishing for the next thing.  During some times of self-reflection, I've noticed that I spend all of my time looking toward the future (which is a natural tendency for an N, but still...) and have a lot of trouble staying in the present.  Well, not just a lot of trouble.  A.LOT of trouble.  I'm not even sure how one goes about present-tense living.  S friends, please speak up!  :)

God has convicted me that my wishing reflects discontentment with the life God has chosen for me right now.  I'm kind of afraid that if I don't make some changes, I will end up wishing away my entire life.  And it's not that I'm sitting around thinking of things I want that I don't have.  I'm just always looking forward, thinking about what I'm going to do tonight or this weekend or when summer comes.  And when I get to those anticipated times, I'm off wishing for the next thing.

Of course, this post from Andrea is not the only avenue God's been using to get His message across.  The book I'm reading, One Thousand Gifts, also talks about living in the present and being thankful in every moment.  Here are a few quotes:

Here dies another day
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world round me;
And with tomorrow begins another.
Why am I allowed two? (G.K. Chesterton)

Why doesn't anyone ask that why question?  Why are we allowed two?  Why lavished with three?  A whole string of grace days?  [...]

When I realize that it is not God who is in my debt but I who am in His great debt, then doesn't all become gift?  [...]  

'...that I'd day after day after day greedily take what looks like it's good from Your hand - a child gloating over sweet candy...'  My voice catches hard.  I've been a thief, trying to hoard away all the good.  '...but that I'd thrash wild to escape when what You give from Your hand feels bad - like gravel in the mouth.  Oh, Father, forgive...Should I accept good from you, and not trouble?' (Job 2:10)  [...]

Eucharisteo is how Jesus, at the Last Supper, showed us to transfigure all things - take the pain that is given, give thanks for it, and transform it into a joy that fulfills all emptiness.  [...]  The hard discipline to number the griefs as grace because as the surgeon would cut open my son's finger to heal him, so God chooses to cut into my ungrateful heart to make me whole."

How dare I be ungrateful for this moment given me by not fully enjoying the gift, the present, God has given me!  Here are Jon Acuff's thoughts:

The Secret About Ideas

I like to judge the Israelites.

I like to read Genesis and Exodus and feel pretty smug about myself when I hear them complain.

“In Egypt we had meat! We’re sick of manna! Remember the good old days when we were slaves?”

They say and do some pretty incredible thing. It’s like watching a desert reality show. I keep waiting for the host of Survivor, Jeff Probst to step out and say, “Today’s reward challenge is that God heard your constant grumbling and has decided to make it rain poisonous snakes. We’re calling it ‘Pitted against pit vipers.’ On your mark, get set, go!”

My favorite section to judge them on is when they asked Aaron to make them a new God to worship. Moses was on the mountain and in their restlessness they asked for a new idol. Aaron complied and created a golden calf for them to worship.

When Moses calls him on it, he responds in Exodus 32, “I told them, ‘Whoever has any gold jewelry, take it off.’ Then they gave me the gold, and I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf!”

It’s like a bad Criss Angel magic trick. I read that and think, you are so dumb, so dumb. Why would anyone ever think a golden calf could be a god worth serving? That is such an obvious idol. And then I continue to hide my own idols deep down where no one sees them.

I don’t worship money. I’ve never had a difficult struggle with bling. For the most part “item idols” are not something I wrestle with. But recently, I realized I’m having a much harder time with something else:

“Idea Idols.”

They’re not tangible. They’re not physical. They don’t have the sheen of gold about them, but they are every bit as ridiculous as baal.

One that got exposed last week was my worship of “the next job.”

I’m a serial quitter. I had eight different office jobs in eight years. I’ve never stayed at a company very long. At first I blamed this on my generation. I’d say, “The days of working for 30 years and getting a gold watch are over.” And that might be true, but something else was going on with me. I expected the next job to fix me.

Each time I would get a new job, I would experience a honeymoon period. I’d be happy or engaged for six months to a year. But then I’d get bored. Then I’d get unhappy. Then I’d get frustrated. And then I’d start to dream about “the next job.”

At the next job, I’ll be happy.

At the next job, I’ll be fulfilled.

At the next job, I’ll be better.

At the next job, I’ll be the man I’ve always wanted to be.

Every morning, the thought of the “next job” would comfort me and provide me a false sense of hope.

I didn’t realize how much I idolized the idea of the “next job” until I got a job I didn’t want to leave. I recently passed the six month mark at Dave Ramsey. And when I ran into the challenge of writing my next book, I woke up one morning and there was the “next job” idol waiting for me. My book which comes out in May has been a crazy walk through of the last 12 years of my life and finishing it has been the hardest creative exercise I’ve ever done.

As I got stressed about that, I instantly returned to the idol of the “next job.” Only I didn’t want a next job. I want to stay at Dave Ramsey for years and years. But I spent a dozen years teaching myself to bow down at the idol of the next job. So last week, as I went to kneel before the “next job,” I felt like God pulled back the curtain and showed me how ugly that idol was. How empty. How hopeless.

Have you ever done that? Have you ever said, “This next boyfriend or girlfriend will make me happy.” Or “This next opportunity will fix me.” Or “This next purchase” or this “next anything?”

The challenge of “idea idols” is that they’re secret. They’re powerful because we keep them deep inside us. Friends can’t call them on us because they’re not nearly as obvious as a golden calf. And I carried mine and manicured it and worshipped it for 12 years.

I’m tired of that. Worshipping what’s “next” has blinded me too often to what’s now. And though I may pick them up and lay them down a thousand times as I walk forward, I can’t worship an idea idol any more.

I’ve got God, right now. I don’t need the idol of what’s next.