My November thankfulness post on Facebook yesterday was about my house. I love my house. The closer we get to having everything put in place and organized, the more I love it.
I love getting up in the morning and walking out of my bedroom into our main living area. I love walking up the stairs to the girls' rooms. I love opening the door into the walk-in attic area to look for something. I love shutting the French doors of our "study" to practice piano. I love all the doors that open into our beautiful yard that I love.
I LOVE my new house. It's nicely designed and decorated (despite me -- the previous owners had a business staging houses for the market). It's just the right size. It's cozy, and it feels like home. It's . . . comfortable.
And there's the word that's troubling.
Many years ago, back at my first "drama ministry" gig in Hutchinson, we did a skit about a couple who are all about being . . . comfortable. In fact, they miss out on many opportunities in life -- especially some to be a blessing to others -- because of their need to be . . . comfortable. The skit ends with the wife collapsing on the floor, choking on a piece of popcorn, while her husband wonders what to do because . . . well, with his back problems, you know . . . doing the Heimlich on her just wouldn't be . . . you know . . . comfortable.
I believe I've written about this before: Comfort is my idol of choice. If anything is going to take God's place on the throne of my life, it is going to be my own pleasure and ease. I'm quite aware of that. And that is the reason I find myself being suspicious of any situation I find myself in where I am experiencing a great deal of pleasure and ease. Only relatively recently in my 45-year spiritual walk have I come to grips with the idea that being right in the middle of God's will for my life may mean being in decidedly uncomfortable circumstances. That I can be joyful and at peace even when I'm not at ease. And that I shouldn't necessarily take agreeable life circumstances as a sign that God is pleased with me, nor vice versa.
It's hard for me to deal with my personal form of idolatry without becoming a complete ascetic -- which I don't feel called to (nor does my husband, who really would have to be on board for that to happen).
Right now, I'm simply trying to enjoy the blessings in my life with an open hand. Thankful for them right now, in this moment, while realizing that at any time, God could choose to replace them with something displeasurable to me but that would bring me closer to Him -- and that would be awesome, too.