sara evans got something right...

Rays of sun stream through my windows as I sit here sorting through 578’s from the FSA office and pouring over the summaries of coverage for wheat and spring crop policies. I love summer, but I always wish I was outside in it, rather than sitting here in an office. I can smell the chlorine in the pool, and feel the sun warming my skin. Except, I’m actually drinking v8 juice, and it doesn’t smell anything like chlorine.

No matter how good we have it, we always seem to want more. Taking the mail to the post office this afternoon, a random song on the radio caught my attention. “I find me a perfect catch, then I see my friends having wild weekends, then I don’t wanna get quite so attached. just as soon as I get what I want, I get unsatisfied, good is good but could be better…”

The irony of this song is that while we can point fingers and say “she just needs to be happy with what she has,” I think we can all identify to a degree with this feeling. I have so much, but there is always that one thing out of reach. Other people have that one thing I want, but for them, everything else is out of reach. The people who are truly content with what they have seem to be few and far between. And the myth that one thing will make us happy only leads to more disappointment. I have wanted a pickup my whole life. I have that pickup, but now I have a payment. The pickup is actually a bad example, because I love my truck. I like to drive it, I like to look at it, I like how smooth it rides down dirt roads…. but it means I can’t pay to do that one other thing that would make me happy. It is an endless cycle.

Church tonight was humorous. It was also yet another ugly reminder of my ungratefulness. I have so much, yet all I want is the people I feel “belong” here. How could I question my God that He would not know EXACTLY where I belong? Yet, I do.

One year ago today, I was sitting in my dorm room floor. My phone rang, and I stopped breathing. A week earlier, Erin had told me Lauren was sick. That night, Jesus took Lauren home. I had never cried like that. My roommate Laur brought up a laundry basket full of toilet paper, and the tears kept flowing. Lauren taught me what beauty was in her life. She was beautiful on the outside, but she LOVED Jesus. She loved me, and always had time to listen, talk, and laugh. She helped me with school…I still remember driving through Dallas on the way to Chili’s with her and Erin, meeting a group of friends for dinner. Tonight, she is with her Savior, and we’ll see her again soon.