As it is

The first thing that comes to mind is status quo. But as humans, we are rarely satisfied with the way things are--we are always striving toward some new milestone. Why? Because on some level we know this is not as good as it gets--there is more, and we want that. But, the question will surely come, isn't wanting more a bad thing? And, of course, the answer cannot be a simple yes or no. It depends on what we want, it depends on why we want it, and it depends on how we want it.


What we want can, as we have observed earlier, help to define who we are. Wanting lots of money and wanting world peace are two different things. Wanting goods and wanting good are very different. We live in a culture that values things, where bumper stickers (He who dies with the most toys wins) reflect the hearts (and minds) of many of us. Our culture embraces the material things and denigrates the spiritual things, to the point that a bracelet can take the place of the thing it is supposed to symbolize. I am thinking of the Lance Armstrong LiveStrong bracelets and the Madonna-inspired wearing of the red string associated with the Cabala. I am not saying that the original bracelets were meaningless; I am saying that many people wear these articles without any thought as to the true meaning behind the thing. Without having our hearts in the right place, the thing remains a thing and has none of the symbolic meaning we might assume it has. A flag is just a piece of cloth unless we recognize the ideas and ideals of the country it represents.


So, we have to be careful about what we want. Does this mean that we cannot want material things? Of course not (and this is not another Material Girl allusion). We need certain things because we are built that way: food, water, shelter. These are needs, and the difference between needs and wants is important. We need food, water, and shelter to exist; we do not need caviar, artisian spring water, and a mansion. I often hear students (and adults) say they need a thing--a new cell phone, a new television, a new car. This is where we have to be careful. We are assured that God will provide those things we need, but we are not told that we can have every little thing our hearts desire.


Does this mean that wanting things is, after all, bad? I think that leads to the other two questions. First, why do we want the thing? Is our want rooted in greed or envy? Are we coveting the thing because we desperately want to keep up with our neighbors (or the other soccer moms or the folks in the next pew or that guy we saw on TV)? If I want a new mini-van so that I can more safely transport my family and, at the same time, get better gas mileage, is that wrong? I hope not, but we still have to be careful. I might want a computer that will allow me to effectively and efficiently take care of my meager computing needs--word processing, browsing the Internet, converting my albums to mp3s--but when I walk into a computer store (even virtually), I may have to fight against the urge to go overboard, buying a machine that far out-strips my needs (thereby far out-stripping my budget). Again, it becomes a matter of perspective. We have to prioritize, and in so doing we have to remember that God comes first. This perspective should help us keep our wants under control.


This brings us to the third question--how do we want it? Where I live it would not be uncommon to hear someone say that he wants something bad--meaning that he wants it badly or that he wants it very much. I think, though, that the misuse of an adjective for an adverb might allow us some insight into what I mean about how we want things. We have all probably heard someone say that he (or she) would do anything to get a particular goal. I have had students who said they would do anything for an A. Some people might do anything for a hard-to-get concert ticket or a particular car or to live in a certain neighborhood. Rarely do any of these people mean that they would literally do anything (I hope). But it gets at the crux of how we want things. If we want something with all our hearts, we run the risk of squeezing out something that is vitally important and already set up there: God. Wanting something to the point that the desire becomes all-consuming upsets our priorities and places us in danger.

Another (related) issue is that we just don't always know what it is we want. We feel that we are missing something, so we try to fill it or fix it on our own. In our culture, we are bombarded with possibilities to fill every need, every want, every second of every day. Not all of these possibilities are good. Like food choices when we think we might be hungry, the things we are offered by our culture are not all equally nutritious or wholesome. Just as we might be tempted to indulge in a bag of chips when we are bored and alone on a lazy afternoon or just as we might think we need the carton of ice cream at midnight, we often find ourselves making choices about what we think we want merely because those things seem right or seem easy or seem desirable. We cannot allow forces outside ourselves to dictate our desires. This does not mean shutting God out; if we are God's children, if we have accepted Christ, then God is not something outside of ourselves. Our wants, our desires, will more easily and naturally conform to God's will.


Does this mean we will always want in the way God would want us to? Will we always behave the way we should in God's eyes? No. We are still human. But, if we acknowledge God's place in our hearts, it should help us.

A somewhat separate issue, perhaps, is the difference between having what we want and wanting what we have. In Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Alice encounters a similar dilemma at the tea party with the March Hare and the Mad Hatter:

The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, "Why is a raven like a writing-desk?"
"Come, we shall have some fun now!" thought Alice. "I'm glad they've begun asking riddles. — I believe I can guess that," she added aloud.
"Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?" said the March Hare.
"Exactly so," said Alice.
"Then you should say what you mean," the March Hare went on.
"I do," Alice hastily replied; "at least--at least I mean what I say--that's the same thing, you know."
"Not the same thing a bit!" said the Hatter. "You might just as well say that 'I see what I eat' is the same thing as 'I eat what I see'!"
"You might just as well say," added the March Hare, "that 'I like what I get' is the same thing as 'I get what I like'!"
"You might just as well say," added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, "that 'I breathe when I sleep' is the same thing as 'I sleep when I breathe'!"

Aside from the semantic entanglements of this Wonderland exchange, we encounter a different and more important kind of entanglement--a conundrum more philosophical than philological: we have a tendency to make associations that are not truly there and, probably just as often, make separations that we should not. We, like Alice, often confuse meaning what we say with saying what we mean; however, we do not as often see that there should be a more positive correlation between having what we want and wanting what we have. Wanting more, especially in the non-material sense (spiritually, emotionally), is part of who and what we are--we cannot escape it because we are constantly striving toward Christ and Christ-likeness. However, we still have to appreciate what we have. We should not ignore the relationship we have in favor of the relationship we want to have; we should not refuse the feelings we have now because we think the feelings to come will be better. It all comes down to what we do with what we have. We have to embrace the good things we have, appreciate them, use them--all the while striving toward something more.

In many ways this is like the difference between happiness and joy: happiness is ephemeral, an emotion that is fleeting, temporary; joy is eternal. We should not ignore happiness just because we know that joy is forever. Happiness is good, and we should embrace our moments of happiness, however fleeting they might be. Happiness may leave us, but it leaves us with memories and it strengthens our hearts, our minds, our spirits; it helps us and enriches us. We need to find the balance between accepting what we have and striving to improve.