Our refrigerator broke down a month ago. And let me tell you, nothing puts you in the Christmas spirit quite like moving all your food to the garage. Fortunately, we have an old, decrepit refrigerator—one that, by the way, has never had a single issue—that happily welcomed the unexpected attention. Not being the type to immediately call a repairman, I consulted the experts on YouTube and began narrowing down the problem. Thankfully, ordering and installing a new motherboard only cost $98. Unfortunately, it took us three weeks of trial and error to land on that solution.
But those three weeks were pure comedy.
I can’t even count on all my fingers and toes how many times one of us opened the broken refrigerator, hoping to forage for something to eat. Watching thirteen-year-old Will was especially priceless. Every time he opened the door to that dark, empty space, his face fell. Shoulders slumped, he would walk away utterly defeated, giving up—for the moment, anyway—on his relentless teenage quest for constant snacks.
But let’s be honest. We all did it. Each of us kept opening the refrigerator out of habit, only to realize our folly. And because the walk to the garage fridge—just 20 feet away—felt like such an enormous inconvenience, we gave up. Condiments? Nope. Snacks? Forget it. Other accoutrements? Not worth the effort. We surrendered to laziness (or maybe just to the luxury of Christmas vacation). I’ll let you decide.
We continue to live in tumultuous times—in our country and around the world. No matter where you stand politically or ideologically, you’ve probably noticed it. Harsh words, bitter conflicts, disrespect, even physical violence seem to dominate us. Nineteenth-century Russian writer and philosopher Leo Tolstoy described three stages of human life: personal, pagan, and divine. In the personal stage, humanity is preoccupied with the self. In the pagan stage, humanity becomes obsessed with others and entrenched in tribalism. And in the divine stage, humanity finally embraces the Source of All Things, pursuing selfless love and benevolence toward others and creation.
Not to oversimplify, but our broken refrigerator feels like the perfect analogy. In the personal and pagan stages of life—where I believe we are currently stuck—we keep opening the door, searching for something nourishing, something life-giving, only to find the same dark, empty space, over and over. Why are we so content with this futile, vicious cycle when it has nothing to give us? Why do we so easily give up on going the extra mile (or, taking the twenty steps) to find what we truly seek, that which nourishes and satisfies?
There is another way of life. It isn’t obsessed and consumed with self or others. But it requires us to forge a new path and seek to find its treasures.
Question
Am I repeatedly searching for fulfillment in the same empty places, and what steps am I will to take to pursue what truly nourishes my soul?
Peace,
Brandon