You know that saying about Jack? The one that goes something like this….”I’m a Jack of all trades, but master of none”. Yeah, that one. We hear that and we’re supposed to think, poor Jack, he’s not a master of anything. That poor guy!
Well, that’s not me. I don’t think that about Jack and I’m not Jack. In fact, being Jack sounds pretty great to me. Sadly, I’m more like Jack’s friend. I see all the cool things he can do, and I like them, all of them, and I want to do them too. I want my cupboards to look like this, and I want to be able to decorate like this and dress like this. So I try, quickly realize I can’t manage and then I’m sad.
So what is this? What is it in me that longs to be good at these things or even just do these things? I get so easily caught up in the hustle bustle of this world. I look here and think “wow”, and I look there and I think, “amazing”. I want to do that! I want to be like Jack!
There’s nothing wrong with that right? Nothing wrong with trying to better myself and accomplish more right? Well maybe not. But maybe just maybe the problem is that I’m looking for comfort in this world to a degree that would only be appropriate if this world were all there was—if this was it.
And that’s exactly why this is an issue for me. This world isn’t all that there is. And here I am attempting to store up treasures, as though it were. It’s like I’m a pregnant woman, and I’m “building my nest” in someone else’s home.
Jack and all his abilities distract me. They make me forget that this isn’t my home. In his book, Adopted For Life, Russell Moore reminds us that this “terrestrial orphanage” that we like to think is our home is a pit compared to what awaits us. Living in North America can do that. We can forget that we’re suffering and just strive after making ourselves all cozy like here on earth.
1 Peter reminds us too that we are exiles and sojourners in this land and we have an imperishable, undefiled and unfading inheritance awaiting us in glory. The God of all grace will be there to welcome us to our true and eternal home and yet I insist on longing for more organized shelves, more than I long for that.
Maybe I don’t need to be so jealous of Jack …