2 Corinthians 10.
I have a problem… and chances are, you have the same problem, too.
I hate missing out. In modern culture, this tendency is called “FOMO,” or “Fear of Missing Out.”
And after I sit and think about it for a while, I realize just how pervasive and deep-rooted this is in my life. The more I look, the more I realize it’s driven almost every aspect of where I’ve been and where I’m going. Social Media has only made it worse.
And why shouldn’t we hate missing out? We should experience life to the fullest, right? We should reach for the stars, climb the highest heights, go big or go home! Right? Right??
But that’s not how it works. It’s taken me a long time, but I’m realizing that everything costs something. Every time I want to go run off and experience some cool new thing, there’s something else in my life that has to give. When I want to go catch a concert (because hey, I may never see it again!) there’s consequences. Someone else pays for my spontaneity.
We don’t live in isolated little boxes, especially if you have a family. Everything you do affects everyone else in your family. More often than not, it’s your spouse and kids that pay the price. (When I say “you” I’m really talking about myself. Just so you know.)
If you have very young kids, it might not be a huge problem. You can just throw them in a carrier, and bring them with you. Babies don’t care where you take them, as long as they’re with you.
Older teenage kids can follow you wherever, and heck, they might even be able to take a turn driving. They’re old enough for them not to be a burden, and can help out tremendously. And what teenager doesn’t like doing exciting things?
But it’s the middle kids- the in-betweens… they take the brunt. They are still at a place where they benefit from routine, but are starting to form habits that will turn them into adults. They’re old enough to think taking a road trip is cool, but young enough not to realize how exhausting it is, or how to control themselves when they’re exhausted. They’re old enough to love playing video games, but too young to know when to stop. They’re old enough to spend money, but not responsible enough to understand there still needs to be some left over for food.
Part of me wants to chase after every single exciting opportunity there is. That’s just the adrenaline junkie in me. But what is the meaning of it? Why do I do this? What am I so afraid of missing out on?
What it boils down to is this: I’m trained to be discontent with where I am. Being a Dad isn’t exciting enough; I have to be a dad who skydives, or drives race cars, or something… anything… to keep from being ordinary or bored. Because, you know, being bored is a sin. And being a dad just isn’t cool enough.
Ugh. It sounds so stupid saying it, I could kick myself.
The truth is, when I look back on the last 20 years of my life, I’ve accomplished more than a lot of people would in a lifetime. I’m not particularly proud of myself, because I know I had a lot of help. But somewhere in the back of my mind is a little voice telling me “You haven’t done enough, you’re not there yet, you need to reach for more. There’s more fame and glory and excitement out there, just ripe for the taking! All you have to do is jump in the car, leave your family, and go grab it.”
This is the voice of deceit. It is evil, and it will destroy your family (my family) if left unchecked. The problem is, those things I want to do won’t make my kids into responsible adults. Excitement won’t teach my kids morals and ethics and spiritual truth. Adrenaline rushes won’t hold my wife and console her when she’s had a bad day. A stack of award-winning novels won’t teach my kids a love for writing, and a platinum album on my wall won’t teach them a love for music. All it does it rob them of their father, and I just can’t afford that anymore. I’ve let too much time slip away already.
Like Paul says, “We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ”
I need to be more concerned with seeking God, and His “thrills” than seeking after things that only offer temporary fun. More obedient to Christ. Yes, there are lots of people that want me to write another book. I’m one of them. But nobody is offering to father my children while I slave away at a full-time job and then put in another 2-3 hours on the word processor every night.
“But,” you stammer, “doesn’t God want us to be happy?”
Of course. But like fools, we assume we know how to be happy without God’s help.
So… yeah. That’s all I have to say about that.