Leave the Hunting to the Remote Control

I'm often reminded of how our society wants the "not" more than the "have". While it seems especially prevalent in women (though, then again, perhaps we're the only ones either bold or scarred enough to voice it - tough to know), it would seem it's a bit of the American Way to crave what's missing. We ruthlessly straighten curls, but dole out fortunes to curl the straight. 4 bedrooms is bested by 5; nevermind  that we've only two people in residence. In the name of a good deal, we'll spend an extra $10 to save $5. And our assortments of friends, hobbies, travels, and treasures must alter with the seasons lest we fall prey to stagnancy and repetition. Perhaps Seinfeld summarized it best: In recounting his struggle for control of the remote with his gal Friday, Jerry notes, "It's the problem of the hunter and the nester. She finds a channel and is content to watch what's on. I, on the other hand, am only interested in what else is on."

I totally relate.

But the pitfall here seems as obvious as a freefalling stone - with an equally jarring impact. If you fail to find joy in living fulfilled with precisely what you have, more will never be enough. Not a new sentiment. Nor a particularly profound one, I'm afraid. But I'm reminded of its truth nevertheless.

Perhaps we pick apart our friendships, laying them bare to a slow death. Or fail to ever find even a glimmer of hope in the daily sojourn of our profession. Maybe we can't see our children beyond the haze of our financial, emotional, and physical drains...even if we only acknowledge the blindness in our innermost depths.

Whatever the tension we build between have and have not, it is dissolved by the application of a basic truth: godliness with contentment is great gain (1 Tim. 6:6). Though the passage relates specifically to the trappings of greed, I suggest the principal equally applies to relationships, jobs, children, conversations...whatever. If the quest of the heart is more, more, more, it cannot seek have, have, have: it's too overwhelmed by the circuits of the former to even sense the surge of the latter.

It may very well be that I'm a hunter by nature, a nester by goal. Still, in matters of the heart - in all matters of the heart - I want to chase contentment or, better still, let contentment catch me in the mad spinning of the world. Likely, then, I'll have unearthed the great gain and joyfully embrace the best "more" there is to be found...

And leave the hunting to the remote control.