Living Counter to The Chase
For much of my life, I've been ensnared in the relentless pursuit of more. Each job change, each upgrade in possessions, I hoped would fill the void within me. It didn’t. Or perhaps it did temporarily. An hour of satisfaction or maybe a month, but not much more. Each material accomplishment was followed by a desire for another, in turn that promised to fill the void again. It is exactly like chasing the wind as described in the book of Ecclesiastes. I know I'm not alone in this endless chase.
Living in an affluent community, excess surrounds my family. My children's peers flaunt skincare products that surpass our monthly grocery budget, wear designer labels daily, and boast the latest iPhones and cars. We're constantly falling short.
Sports, once a simple pleasure, have become a costly obsession. Recreational leagues have faded, replaced by club teams that demand hefty annual fees. Performance is paramount, leaving our evenings consumed by shuttling kids from one practice to the next.
This rushed existence of chasing proves hollow. Many of us are afraid to pause, afraid to confront the emptiness within us if we slow down for just a moment.
Over the past year, circumstances have compelled me to slow down. Caring for a medically fragile infant has shifted my focus away from the usual markers of productivity by American standards. Instead, my days have been consumed with meeting the essential needs of my immediate family. Initially, this situation plunged me into a state of despair as I grappled with questions of my own worth. Am I only valuable when I'm achieving? Is my worth contingent upon participating in the relentless race of American society?
Emerging from the haze of caring for five kids and a newborn with heightened needs, I find myself reassessing what truly matters to me and my family. I no longer wish to be swept up in the frantic pursuit of empty material wealth. It's a pursuit that offers no lasting satisfaction and always leaves me yearning for more.
Instead, I've discovered profound peace and fulfillment through gratitude. By slowing down and appreciating everything around me, I've found that focusing on blessings multiplies them. In our modest kitchen, where space is tight and we often bump into each other, I've learned to embrace the coziness. It may be small, but it's incredibly functional, providing just enough room for two people to prepare meals for our family of seven. We laugh and dance amidst the chaos, grateful for the simple joy of cooking together. I've realized that a larger kitchen wouldn't satisfy the deepest longings of my soul. True contentment comes from a thankful heart, living authentically according to our family values and faith in Jesus. I am abundantly blessed by all that I have, and for that, I am truly grateful.
Teaching this perspective to my children is challenging. I see in them the same desires that once consumed me – the belief that material possessions will bring happiness. But contentment is a choice, regardless of our circumstances. I pray they learn this sooner than I did. Perhaps if I can embody this to them, it will be the best teacher. I firmly believe more is caught than taught and our children are always watching.
Living counter to the chase, embracing an authentic life that matters, is difficult. It means setting boundaries and making tough choices that go against the norm. It's about realizing that material gain won't bring lasting peace. I need this reminder regularly. To be grounded again and again. To choose to live abundantly right where I am no matter the circumstance. I pray you find the courage to do the same.
