The Grass is Always Greener

The routine was thrown off earlier this week when I made it home a little early and noticed the sun still brightly shining overhead.  I was giddy with excitement as I made the drive across town.  What a joy it was to see the city on either side of the road all lit up, not masked by darkness, but clear, crisp, and alive looking today instead. The possibilities of what could happen with a free hour full of sunshine seemed endless.  It felt like a small yet priceless gift that God had prepared specially for me.  I wasn't expecting that free time and didn't feel the need to milk it dry with productivity, but was simply free to enjoy an unplanned hour of daylight on a Tuesday afternoon.

As I heaved my bookbag and lunchbox onto the couch, the bright blue sky outside my window beckoned me for a brisk walk.  Perfect.  I'll bring my ipod, spend some time worshiping while I walked, exchange friendly waves and "hello's" with my Church Hill neighbors, and then be back in time to make a big, hot, savory pot of soup for dinner.  Sound idyllic?  I certainly thought so.

The plan was set and seemed all the more delightful because of a lingering sense of dissatisfaction with my rigid daily schedule that has swum up in me lately.  Recently, I've been weary of how much time I spend throughout the day inside and immobile at my desk.  I'm assuming I'm not alone in that sentiment.  Needless to say, I've been a bit restless, occasionally slowing down to stare wistfully out the windows of our office building, like somehow I am being jipped from some fundamental, simple pleasure that everyone else is experiencing.  I've even shaken my head at my self-employed or student friends who are free from this same travesty.  "They just don't know how lucky they are," I've caught myself grumbling.

That, indeed, was the paradigm that had slowly crept into my mind- that everyone else was enjoying something the small remainder of us 8:00-6:00 folks don't- daylight, sunshine, and the flexibility to enjoy both throughout the day.

Embarrassingly excited, I set out on my walk to worship, refresh, and explore, carrying this "woe is me" mentality along for the ride. It was 4:41 pm.

Immediately I am slammed with a strong, I mean strong, gust of wind that makes my bones cold. I am quickly reminded of the morning radio news predicting winds up to 40 mph in Richmond. Hmm, the crisp beautiful day definitely didn't depict such powerful winds from my view inside. Feigning resilience and indifference towards the harsh conditions, I continue moving away from my house, mindful of each step. The wind cuts easily through my thin cotton pants and I'm pretty sure my leg hairs are standing so much on end that they could prick your finger.  It is now 4:44.

I cross paths with the only person I’ve seen so far on my journey. A young mom donning a windbreaker is trying to walk both her German Shepherd and her small toddler in a stroller. She is not feigning resilience and indifference like I am. She just looks miserable.  Her windbreaker appears as though it's about to be pulled off her body by the wind andher dog is digging his heels in, refusing to move.  Even he wants the torture to stop. 

It's now 4:46 and I am a whopping four blocks from my house.  I have semi-listened to one song on my ipod.  I can't stop thinking about how it hurts to uncurl my clenched fists that are now turning red from the wind and how my front teeth are starting to get cold.  At this point, I don't even care that my journey is incredibly unsuccessful, I just want to see how quickly I can make it back to my little warm apartment.

As I powerwalk home, I am struck by the realization that perhaps I'm not missing out on that much after all.  If I had ample spare time during the day, would I even want to use it this way?  No.  It is now 4:50 pm and my nine-minute adventure has landed me right back where I started, and glad to be there.

At that moment, I was overwhelmingly content with my productive days spent inside the office and thankful for the very healthy balance of work and rest that God has ordained in this season of life.  As long as we're on this side of heaven, we will all be tempted to idealize the green grass that we can barely see on the other side.  I will be tempted to wrestle with God over the dissatisfaction that I permit to sneak in.  But, in the end, I am thankful for God's willingness to be our Help.  He helps us find contentment and rest in Him and the circumstances He has laid out for us, even if He uses 40 mph winds to do so.