Creatures of Habit. I have a coworker who always eats at Wendy's. And he always orders the same thing--I forget the exact order, but it's something like a baked potato and a salad. It's easy to find this peculiar--why would you eat at the same establishment every single work day? There are so many good places to eat, especially given that we work in downtown San Francisco, the practical mecca of culinary delights!
A few days ago I described to my coworker the Greek food that I had just sampled for lunch. He became wide-eyed as I explained the different choices in menu items. It was funny, even cute, to see him realize that he ought to get out more and try new things.
Isn't that so with our faith? One lesson that I hold dear from my summer is the realization that at no point can I ever say that this is ALL there is to experiencing the Lord in my life. We talk about believers selling out on their faith, but I'm talking here about those who draw boundaries around their faith, making the subtle compromise that this is all there is to the Christian journey.
I admit, I fall prey to this belief. I often place stakes in this life when I shouldn't. I've returned from China to a life of stability--a decent job, a set salary, good family and friends. Yet the fulfillment of all this is unsatisfying. I see it in my life, I see it in the hearts of those who I make my daily commute with on public transportation.
The prophet Isaiah puts it this way:
"Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare."I want to revel in the abundance of my Savior. I want to eat what is good and dwell in the land that is everlasting. But this involves looking at my life with meticulous scrutiny. Do I live like I am loved by the King? Am I fulfilling all what God wants of me? Have I gladly taken the cup which He has given me?
I have a banquet that awaits. But that first means giving up the chips and pretzels.