Thinking Out Loud, Volume DXIII

A mannequin in the window of Doughty's Department Store in Jena back in 1965 showed a pair of pants, a shirt, and a vest that screamed my name when we drove by. It was the best looking outfit I had ever seen, so I asked my mom to circle around the block so I could see it again. The second time around left no doubt....that outfit was made with me in mind, so I informed Mom right then and there that in order for me to live a fulfilling life, I must have that outfit. She said, "Sure. All you have to do is earn the money to buy it." I felt like Jacob must've felt as he worked for Rachel, toiling and laboring for that one big prize. The day finally came and I proudly walked in that store with a pocket full of money to collect that one object that would bring me happiness. I tried it on, chose the correct size, paid the price, and took it home. It wasn't until the next morning as I was getting ready for church and the chance to show off a little that my eyes were finally opened and I realized I had worked for Rachel, but had ended up with Leah. The outfit I had so desperately desired was nothing more than cloth, and brought me no more satisfaction than I had the day I first saw it in the window. As Jacob did with Leah, I kept it and used it, but the expected feelings of euphoria never materialized. A friend told me a similar story about a truck he saw on the lot. He had just finished school and landed his first job. He saved for the down payment, then walked in to negotiate. When they quoted the monthly payment to him, he knew it would be tight, but he could afford it, so he signed the dotted line. Then came the insurance bills he had failed to figure in the equation, and the gas he would need to fill the tank. He said the only place he ever took his truck was to work, because that was the only place he could afford to go, and as time passed, that truck he had coveted so strongly became a detestable sight sitting in his driveway. Those two stories illustrate the typical feelings we get when we set our eyes and our desires on "things." Every Tonka Toy I ever owned was nice the first day I had it, a little less nice the second day, and the trend continued. As I have aged and gradually acquired wisdom, I have discovered that there ARE possessions that provide me continuous and even increased satisfaction, but those possessions give back. They even get better with age. When I love them, they love me back. When I nurture them, they nurture me. They don't lose their value. What are they? Relationships. I'm convinced that when we have those cravings for more and more stuff, we are misinterpreting what we really crave, and are trying to achieve satisfaction with objects when what we really desire is love and acceptance. First of all, we are seeking a relationship with God, even when we don't know that's what we want. Secondly, we need each other. We need family. We need friends. Genesis 2:18 says, "It's not good for the man to be alone." A lonely man who is wealthy is not happy, yet a poor man who has a good relationship with God and family can live a life of satisfaction and fulfillment. Yes, I still see outfits in the window I like, and my buddy still drives a nice truck, but both of us have learned to keep them in their rightful spot on our list of priorities. Happiness can really be achieved, but it's not provided by toys. Preston