Frank's Cottage

After one of my blogs was posted online, I emailed friends to get some feedback (in case they wanted to read it). Here are two responses:

The first asked me to stop sending her links to these essays because anything related to God is “not my thing.”

The second, from my old buddy Jim Mason (a former newspaper editor in Stouffville, Ontario), went like this:

“What has intrigued me are the number of people who have never believed. Period. Tell them you were just at church and there are no questions, just dismissals. Not to sound high and mighty, but I truly wonder what floats their boat … money? Power? Toys?”

My goodness; it almost sounds like these two people, who have never met, were emailing each other rather than me. The “exchange” certainly got me thinking.

If spirituality is not your thing, then what is? Because, whether we realize it or not, I believe every one of us has a “thing” – something we are passionate about, something we’re willing to spend time, resources, and emotion pursuing.

So, are you focused on money, power, or toys? All these things are certainly cherished in our culture, but if you die wealthy, are you better than those who leave this earth with just a few loonies? Will you have a more fulfilling and laudable life with millions of dollars, a fancy job title and an eye-popping home theatre system?

This reminds me of something Jesus told his followers: “What kind of deal is it to get everything you want, but lose yourself? What could you ever trade your soul for?”

Some might shake their heads at wealth and power and declare their “thing” is family, friends, and relationships. All these things are good, but what if they’re limited to nights at the pub, uncomfortable Christmas dinners, or cruise ship vacations? Doesn’t that get a little old after awhile?

Others might not say so, but their “thing” may be sex. Consider reruns of the TV sitcom Two and a Half Men. One of the main characters, played by Charlie Sheen, was a sex and party-obsessed bachelor.

At first, it’s easy to think Charlie Sheen’s character was smarter and cooler than his cheapskate, fussy, down-on-his-luck brother.  But in the end, the show made it clear that Charlie’s lifestyle was breathtakingly superficial and you feel just as sorry for him.

Extreme sports? Xbox? Wii? These are fun “things”, but how fulfilling are they in the end? My hobby is landscape photography, but no matter how wonderful some of my pictures might be, what can I do with them after putting them on my web page or collecting laudatory comments on the Flickr photo sharing site? Even if I were to get a publishing contract, would having a few coffee-table books be ultimately satisfying?

The point to all of this is simple:

• children grow up and leave
• marriages often end
• spouses die
• friends can (and often do) move or drift away
• big-screen TVs need replacing
• sexual attractiveness slips away
• most books go out of print
• you can’t do extreme sports forever
• one day you’ll have to give up your fancy job title
• you’ll get bored with Xbox and Wii

So what’s left to be your “thing”? What – or who – won’t change with the passage of time? What can you and I commit to, and have that commitment returned, for our entire lives? Could it be God?