Monday meditation: Surprised by my tendency to seek myself
At first it seems strange, if not unthinkable, that God’s people would exchange allegiance to him for the worship of pagan idols. After all the miracles, the provision, the indisputable proofs of his lordship and love, how could their hearts be turned toward substitutes fashioned by the culture around them?
Does it also seem strange that Christians today would chase after money, sex, popularity, or power in place of self-sacrificing life for God? After the resurrection, after all the testimonies of God’s power at work in the lives of those who believe it, after the example of sacrificial Christian service through the ages, how could their hearts be turned toward temporary replacements created by self-centered humans?
Even as we ponder such shortcomings, we may hasten to assert we are not guilty of them ourselves. But we all do well to think more carefully about that claim before we decide to let it stand.
Where are our idols?
In Counterfeit Gods, Timothy Keller explains that anything can become an idol, even something good, if we value it ahead of our relationship with God. We’ve heard this teaching often and have been reminded that our income, our position, our success, our reputation, our children, or our marriage all have the potential to take God’s place in our heart. What do we want most? If the answer is not our relationship with God, we are in danger of becoming just like the person depicted in the picture accompanying this devotion.
But this morning, I’m thinking of one more pursuit, and it seems like a threat particularly dangerous for caregivers. Is it possible that we would make happiness an idol?
I’ll admit this: Although my life has had its share of bumps and bruises, nothing—absolutely nothing—has threatened my equilibrium like the challenge of caring for someone with Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s diseases. It is easy to think about all we’ve lost and fear the losses to come. If I’m not careful, I can focus on my own challenging situation more than I think about what God is doing and wants to do through it, not to mention his purposes for the world beyond my home address.
There’s not a day that some problem or loss or embarrassment or struggle doesn’t intrude on happiness. All those negatives feel bad, but happiness feels good. So why wouldn’t I want happiness more?
The problem comes, of course, when the pursuit of happiness takes God’s place in my thoughts and dreams.
What are we dreaming
Christian psychologist Larry Crabb makes a shocking statement early in his book Shattered Dreams. “Our fondest dreams for this life, the ones we naturally believe are essential to our happiness, must be fully abandoned if we are to know God well,” he wrote.
Later he claims, “Inconsolable pain, the kind that drives away every vestige of happiness and renders us incapable of fully enjoying any pleasure, can be handled only by discovering a capacity for a different kind of joy.”
With that claim on page 81 of 189, this good writer whets his readers’ appetites to understand what he could possibly be describing. I haven’t read to the end yet (I will!), but I’m pretty sure his solution will speak to what the ancient Israelites needed to practice—and we do, too: Put God first. Not lost dreams. Not the chance for happiness. Not even selfless caregiving. God.
I’m living with the hope that if I want him more than anything, I’ll find a joy deeper than I’ve yet experienced. I’m not there yet, but I’m seeking his strength for the journey.
Read: Judges 2:8-19
Pray: Sometimes I’m surprised, Heavenly Father, that I need daily to remind myself to make you first in my heart and in my decisions—in all my life. You are Lord, creator of all and over all. And I submit to you again today.
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