There’s this strange phenomenon where my kids prefer food off of my plate more than their own.
And a friend’s toys are usually much more fascinating than the ones overflowing from bins in their own room.
How is it that we seem to be hardwired to be discontent with what we have? Or at least, so fascinated by what we don’t have?
Her hair color, his sense of humor, their ease of relationship, that income, that neighborhood, the level of respect he elicits, the attention she attracts…somehow it can seem better than what we’ve got.
Eve and Adam had access to every tree in the garden save one, but then the lie was birthed in the form of a question: what am I missing? And why can’t I have it?
What if all this time at home can help us to rediscover treasures we’d forgotten about buried in the closet, and could see our own toys with new eyes of gratitude?
What is all this talk of “distancing” can remind us to eat off of our own plates and to drink from our own cups? To remember that the Parent who serves our meal loves us and has our good at heart?
hope for the sojourn 