"We are creatures of habit. We all want to get around like we used to. It is our tendency to resist being stretched. We have gotten comfortable, and established in a routine.
Someone has said that Ruts are just open ended graves. But for most of us Ruts define the way we live.
We get up every morning and get out of that some old bed, put on those same old clothes, walk to that same old table, eat that same old breakfast, pack that same old lunch, put those same old kids on the bus, kiss that same old spouse, drive that same old car to that same old job, get off at the same old time, drive down that same old street, pull into that same old drive, have that same old dinner, watch that same old program, get in that same old bed. Then you get up the next morning to do the same old thing all over again."
-Eric Snyder
Above is a part of a sermon that I heard for the first time a little over a year ago. For whatever reason, I thought of it again this week. The words have set up camp in my mind and like the bedbugs in the NYC movie theaters, they will not leave so I decided to think about them a little more. Since the blogosphere is my oyster, I've decided to share said thoughts with you three. You're welcome.
I am absolutely a creature of habit. Remember my whole lament from a couple of months ago about the lack of Carnation Instant Breakfast in Athens and how I was either going to have to move or quit eating breakfast altogether? I'm telling you, the only thing worse than a creature of habit is one with a flair for the dramatic.
"Creature of habit" has such a negative connotation doesn't it? First of all the word "creature" conjures up all sorts of images of things that might lurk around on the bottom of the ocean floor or in the deep recesses of the hundred acre wood. Please accept my apology for the Winnie the Pooh reference. I loathe Winnie the Pooh (and Tigger too!). Then, the prepositional phrase "of habit" doesn't exactly scream fun and excitement now does it? Nope, it doesn't at all. I happen to believe it screams monotonous and boring with a little dash of stubbornness for added effect.
This week I began to think about how and why I evolved into the little creature of habit that I have become. The answer is pretty simple really: It's easy. It's safe. But...at the end of the day, is that enough? I really don't think so. I think when we choose what is easy and safe and feels good at the time, we eventually begin to resent the very things that initially provided that security. Are you tracking? What happens when resentment builds? Nothing good, that's what. We begin to feel trapped and smothered in our creature comforts. Suddenly we find ourselves itching to break out of that same old routine and if the itch is bad enough we'll run once again to what is easy and accessible [but new! and improved!] to scratch it as quickly as possible. It's living, but is it really?
Recently I decided that I wanted to get involved at church through serving as a small group leader for middle school or high school girls. You want to talk about ripping me completely out of my comfort zone? Well, that's a big way to do it. Everything was going along swimmingly and one day I just dropped the ball. And never picked it back up. Sure, I can give a thousand [lame] excuses: last semester of school, I don't know how long I'll be in Athens, blah, blah, blah. But the reality is serving would require me to stretch and bend and potentially even break [again] and breaking is the very last thing that I want to do right now. It's uncomfortable. It's scary. Heaven forbid I allow myself to be used in a good way for the glory of God. I mean, doesn't he just want us to be comfortable and live a good life by being kind to others and then sit around and wait for the big prize in the sky? Um. Nope. If that were the case then Jesus would have lived out his golden years next door to John the Baptist and his family. Mary and Martha would have squabbled much less often. Paul would have never had to have his name changed on his social security card. [What's that? He never had 6.2% of his earnings put into a mysterious account to be held for him until he turned 62? Oh.] This Earth is not my forever home but while I'm here, I'm pretty sure that my function isn't to while away the hours until the Left Behind series comes to life.
Snyder speaks of ruts and how most of us make our homes in them. Ruts are different than valleys. What happens to ruts when it rains? They fill up and the water doesn't go away immediately. What happens when there's standing water? It becomes stagnant. What happens in stagnant waters? Mosquitos. What happens to mosquitos? We squash them. Um....I absolutely didn't intend to go down that trail when I started this paragraph but it works [kind of] so I'm keeping it. A couple of years ago I wrote a similar post about the lesson to be learned from garden eels.
I think it's human nature to take the easy route. And before I go all "there were two paths in the woods and I took the one less traveled and that has made all the difference" trite, I'm going to wrap this little post up. There is something to it though. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that by choosing to follow Christ, we've got a free pass and a life of ease ahead of us. Personally I believe it presents us with more challenges [adventures!]. We are required to take risks [adventures!]. We are required to walk in the dark [adventures!]. Before we know it, we've become bonafide thrill seekers waiting for our next adrenaline rush. Who's in?
*The scriptural reference from Snyder's talk is Isaiah 54:1-4 in case you're wondering.
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