A Better Question

Open up with a cliche Pinterest picture and a quote from C.S. Lewis? Check.
I also wonder if Pinterest has a modeling agency. I bet their quotes could make the back of anyone's head look good.

I've never had much trouble finding my place in the world. I've had more trouble creating it. I've always been a deep thinker. You know, the kind of person that would sit down, eat a sandwich, and wonder how eating this sandwich would effect his life in ten years. In seventh grade, I already had a ten-year plan. I knew exactly what college I would attend, what age I would be when I got married, what my kids names would be, and where I wanted to live. Did I mention I was eleven years old? I thought I had all the answers, and the road ahead was smooth-sailing. I was so wrong. Of course, now I'm five years older, wiser, and better. I tweaked my plans, and I have my whole life figured out.

Psych.

This is my last year to live at home, and I'm still not sure what the rest of my life is going to look like. I've gone back countless times to my seventh grade agenda and wondered why it's been half a decade and I still haven't become the revolutionary I thought I would be. I tweaked my answers to fit what I felt like doing every year and improved them to make them more realistic. However, the more I think about it, the more I've discovered that I should stop wasting my time.

Maybe life isn't always about finding better answers. Maybe it's also about asking better questions.

The question I asked in seventh grade was "What will make me happy for this life?" Don't get me wrong. My answers weren't that I wanted to get drunk, party, and do drugs. They weren't even about winning the approval of others. I didn't want to be world-famous or rich. I just wanted to be happy.

In fact, my seventh grade list was actually very moral. I wanted to become a doctor and help in third-world countries, start a pro-life campaign, and find a cure to cancer. (Let's all take a moment to note that I was probably the most idealistic seventh grader there ever was.) I thought that if I finally did all these things, I could be satisfied in myself. I would be a good person, go to heaven, and leave this world better than I found it. I strove for perfection. My seventh grade question was exposed for what it really was: "What can I do to satisfy myself?"

I was spiritually, physically, and mentally balanced. Yet, I was never satisfied. My life by anyone else's standards should have guaranteed happiness. I had friends. I had work ethic. I had Jesus. My life should have been perfect.

But that's the thing. We were never made to be perfect. And Jesus was never meant to be apart of some list, even if he was at the top. God was meant to be at the very center of it.

I think that's what a lot of Christians look over. They think that they can satisfy themselves with morality, family life, and loving others. We try so hard to satisfy ourselves with religion. We think that a healthy dose of Jesus will make us into a better and happier person. But may I just emphasize: JESUS IS NOT A DIET. He is not some plan we get on to get a better version of ourselves. Under his grace, we are a new creation. We are no longer satisfied by the things of this world. We cannot be satisfied in anyone else.

The answer I so meticulously contrived in seventh grade could be answered simply. "What can I do to satisfy myself?" Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I could be the best person in the world, but I would only ware myself out. Instead of asking "Will this make me into a better person?", I started asking, "Will this make me look more like Jesus?" (Thus, I bought Chaco's, because I'm 70% sure that Jesus would have worn them.. but really.)

C.S. Lewis about sums it up in Mere Christianity:

The Christian says, 'Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.

I still don't know what I want to do. I'm sixteen years old, and instead of writing my college essays, I'm blogging about Jesus. Honestly, that's all I want to do. I want to talk about Jesus the rest of my life. As long as I love him, I could be starving. I could be homeless. I could be broke. (S/O to Justin Beiber) But truly, maybe we should stop asking what else will satisfy us and start asking "Is God enough for me?" Will we simply settle for what is before us because it is convenient? Will we scramble to get our best life now? Or will we live, knowing Jesus IS the life? 

If you're in the same boat as I'm in and you're deciding what you want to do for the rest of your life, I encourage you to have peace. Stop fretting over the trivial things. I've found so much freedom in chunking that seventh grade list. Good news, guys. I don't have to find the cure for cancer in order to be happy at the end of my life. There is so much grace to stop asking "God, should I become a doctor or a lawyer or a sanitation engineer or...?" and to start asking, "God, what can I do to look more like Your Son and glorify you?" 

Insanity, by definition, is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. So, I guess we're all a little clinically insane. We keep asking the same questions over and over and still become frustrated at every dead end. If you're still searching for something that will satisfy you in this world, I'll save you the trouble. Nothing really will. We were made for a different world. So stop scrambling to create your spot in the world, and start finding yourself in all God is.