Currently, my wife and I live in a nice little two bedroom apartment in Goleta, CA. We pay rent that is probably higher than the lowest in the area but we still feel like we’re getting a deal for the area. The average price, we’re told, to rent in the Santa Barbara area (the more well-known city immediately south of us) is some amount between ridiculous and absurd. We have no children or pets. Our second room serves as my place of business and I sometimes find myself barely even leaving the apartment for days at a time. I often fantisize about what the future will hold and what it will be like ‘when’. ‘When my business is more established’, ‘when my wife finishes getting her teaching credential’, ‘when I can afford a new car or bigger tv or nicer cell phone’, ‘when I have children’, ‘when we move to another town’. The list goes on.
Ultimately, all these fantasies simply serve to help make me a bit lonely in my empty apartment from which I rarely leave. And yet I persist in continuing them. Sometimes I settle myself enough, though less frequently than I’d like, to allow a small quiet voice the opportunity to enter my mind and tell me to simply “Stop it”. The voice usually seems gentle but forceful. And very adamant. There is a clamoring in my mind most of the time – a constant competition for wants and perceived needs. This small voice ignores all of those. It rises above the static of my mind only to whisper faintly words of hope and freedom and whatever is the exact opposite of loneliness. I live to hear that voice, only to find myself going right back to my old habits of allowing the whisper to become fainter and fainter behind other seemingly more immediate and important pursuits. “I’ve got to get more money,” I tell myself. “What am I even doing with my life?” I lament.
But the voice always remains though it is far beyond me. Every time I think I can’t hear it anymore, it manages to gently accost me. To steal away my selfishness and replace with it a sense of peace and purpose. It is not about how much I do. It is not about the things I accumulate. It is not about who I know. The only thing that truly defines me is that which is always there. The thing that is unmovable and ever present, even when I forget it’s there. I am defined by the voice of my maker.
And just for kicks here is an incredible animation I found on YouTube. Thanks for sticking with the post and reading through!