I have an addictive personality.
I’ve been told this by professionals, friends and family, and I’ve seen it in action.
Some of these addictions are fairly harmless. I like to watch certain movies or shows over and over and over again (and somehow enjoy them just as much as I did the first time, if not more).
I have a mild addiction to T-shirts. T-shirts with words, specifically. I just need to buy them and wear them. I found an old red T-shirt at my grandmother’s house that says Marching Band Commander on it. Turned out to be my uncle’s in high school when he was in the band. It’s faded with a few small holes in it. But oh my gosh, it is now one of my current favorites.
I’m addicted to jeans, but mainly just wearing them, not so much buying them. Buying them would involve SHOPPING, you know. And that’s one addiction I was spared. I’ve got three or four pair that I wear pretty much every day.
My favorite pair is on its last leg (pun intended). They’ve been worn and washed so many times, they’re super soft and nearly threadbare. There are several especially worn creases that have become permanent over time. One of them finally split across my thigh the other day, but I still wear them around the house or whenever I don’t need to look particularly put together.
Sydney was eyeing the hole the other day. This child’s brain is amazing. It never stops gathering, processing and storing information. A walking catalog of actionable intel. Brad keeps saying she should work for the CIA. She also has a very high standard of style (which I rarely meet) and knows exactly how everything should look.
And ripped jeans are not unheard of these days, but she considered the odd placement of this hole and asked, “Is that rip supposed to be there?” I grinned, “Nope. Just because I’ve had these for so long.” She reached over and felt how paper-thin the fabric was and was amazed. “Wow. I’ve never actually seen a pair of jeans rip just because they’ve been worn so much.” You’re welcome, young padowan.
I’m proud to say. I’ve pretty much kicked my addiction to chips. I’ll still eat them on occasion. But I don’t NEED them like I used to.
Diet Coke, on the other hand, still has me in its aspartame-infused grip. I can’t even talk about it. (Hang on. I’m gonna go run downstairs and grab one. Be right back.) I’ve nailed the first step: Admitting I am powerless over my addiction. I’ve just never really made it past that point. And the worst part is, if I’m honest, I don’t really WANT to. (I’m sorry. That’s real.)
I’ve noticed that I have two distinct types of addictions: One is about comfort, based on what I already have (jeans, Diet Coke, repeating shows). The other stems from wanting MORE of something (Diet Coke, T-shirts).
To most Christians, MORE has become a four-letter word. (Okay, it IS a four-letter word, but I mean a BAD four-letter word.) We are regularly warned about greed and discontentment and that’s how sin entered the world, with Eve not being satisfied with what she had, for wanting more. And there’s something to be said for all that.
But as is the case in most situations, there’s another side to this coin.
What if, now just go with me here for a second, what if we’re SUPPOSED to want more?
What if, I’m just throwing the question out there, what if we were created for more?
One of my very favorite books of the Bible is the Gospel of John. (I’ve read John, Philippians and Romans about a zillion times. Addictive. Personality.)
The first chapter of John is so amazing. I love the poetry of it. Then John the Baptist (whom I lovingly refer to as JTB) shows up, preparing the way and denying being the Messiah.
Finally Jesus shows up and JTB does what he was born to do, points at Jesus and says, “Look, the Lamb of God!” (v. 36).
I couple of the disciples heard this and decided to follow Jesus around, probably arguing in whispers about who was going to speak to Him first and what they should say.
And then 37 verses into this book, we get Jesus’ first red letter words:
“What do you want?”
Jesus knew/knows the heart of all men/women. He knew what they wanted, even though it seems like they didn’t, because they never actually answered His question. And if Jesus asked that question of me a few years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to answer Him either. Because I didn’t know.
And even worse than not knowing what I wanted, I didn’t think it mattered.
I lived under the weight of should for way too long. When I was presented with an option or decision, I would answer with what I should want or what I should do. Because if I did what I should (for the most part), life would go my way, right?
I know that sounds ridiculous, but admit it, we’ve ALL believed and tested that theory to some extent. And we’ve all been crushed by its results.
(Not saying that we shouldn’t try to do what we SHOULD, based on scripture. I’m just saying that won’t guarantee our happily ever after.)
It got so bad in the last few years that when somebody would ask me if I could do something or attend some event, the first thing I would do is look at my calendar. If that day/time was open, I would say yes.
Whether I actually WANTED to or not was never part of the equation.
There’s an episode of Friends where the guys are putting together some new furniture for Ross (I think it’s the very first episode of the very first season). They turn to Phoebe and say, “Hey Pheebs, wanna come help us put Ross’s new furniture together?”
And without missing a beat, she replies apologetically, “Oh, I wish I could, but I don’t want to.”
WHAT?! You can SAY THAT? ‘I DON’T WANT TO’?
I used to think it was just a funny response made by a kooky character. But now I realize what a powerful statement it is.
I read somewhere that “an invitation is not an obligation.” Translation: What you WANT is a legitimate factor. Not the ONLY factor, but definitely one to be taken into consideration.
If Jesus asked me that now, do you know what I would say?
More. I want more.
Not in a discontent, complainy way. I swear, if nothing ever changed in my life, I would still have well beyond more than I could ever need.
But since He’s asking.
What do you want? Do you want more?
More love in your marriage?
More time to enjoy life with friends and family?
More hobbies that bring you joy?
More money to be free of debt and invest in the future?
More fulfillment in your career?
More connection with your kids?
More energy/health in your body?
More margin to pursue your dreams?
More purpose in your life?
And do you feel guilty about it? Greedy, grasping, discontent, unsatisfied, unappreciative. Those are the words I associate with wanting more.
Bill Hybels (pastor of megachurch Willow Creek up in Chicago) wrote a book years ago called Holy Discontent. He boldly presses into the possibility that God Himself may be putting that desire for more in our hearts to get us to pursue His purposes for our lives.
Because you know what I think? I think He created us for more.
More than dead-end jobs that are slowly killing our souls.
More than a loveless/lifeless marriage.
More than a practical/logistical relationship with our kids.
More than the daily grind.
More than the unhealthy and diseased bodies that render us useless.
More than the American Dream.
More pleasure doing what we were created to do.
Oh, how we all pray so hard for what we NEED. We pray for just enough to get by: A day without a fight with our boss/spouse/kid. And to be sure, we absolutely should bring our needs to our Father in prayer.
But dare I say, we shouldn’t stop there.
God is more than able to meet all our needs. But you know what? Beyond being the Creator of the universe who made the ultimate sacrifice to secure our salvation, He’s also our loving Father.
A loving Father who takes care of our needs, yes. But sometimes just wants to give us gifts. Gifts with no strings attached just to delight and bless us. Just to make us happy. Just because He loves us.
So armed with scripture to support that (James 1:17, Matthew 7:9-11, 1 John 3:1), I have begun praying bold prayers. Shameless prayers. Unapologetic prayers. I’ve been asking my Father, who owns all things, to give me some things I just big, fat WANT.
I praise Him for giving me everything I need. And I’ve started fearlessly asking for what I want. And the shift has been shocking.
He has started answering. Giving me gifts that it seems He has just been WAITING for me to request. And there has been a massive breakthrough in my heart:
Just because I want it doesn’t automatically mean it’s wrong. And holy crap, I think He may just love me and (if He deems it good for me) want to give me things that make me happy. Just like any good father.
So if you find yourself wanting more, don’t shame yourself into silence. Don’t convince yourself that it’s wrong to desire more than mediocrity.
Pray for the remarkable. Not to a distant, unapproachable God who follows a hands-off approach to parenting.
Pray to your loving Father, who just happens to be King over all things.
Embrace your desire for more. Pray for it.
And just see what happens.
