Wanting More

Lately I go to bed wanting more. I want more joy. I want more laughter. I want more quiet. I want to do more. I want more community.

Is that wrong?

Is it ok to ask God, the universe, etc for MORE when I already am SO blessed? I have a loving husband, two healthy kids, family and friends that love me, a great job. So what is my deal? Why can't I see these as the huge blessings that they are? We are a culture of "more" and "right now". Americans want 'things' and crave instant satisfaction. Maybe I'm just falling into that trap.

I don't want to miss out on the joy that is right around me! For example: my son's ability to laugh at so many things. Last night, I watched as Sam placed a clean from the laundry sheet over his head. When Sam pulled it off, he errupted into fits of laughter.

I try to BE in these moments, to cherish these moments. I think, by and large, I do see my blessings. But there is a part of me that goes to bed thinking that I'm not living my life boldly. That I'm somehow just shuffling through, doing the dishes, swiffering the floor, answering email...and not doing what I am called to do. I could be doing more. I should be doing more.

And that bugs me. When am I going to live that bold life? By questioning what more I could give and what more I could learn FROM life, and wanting that, does that somehow mitigate what I already have? Does it somehow make me ungrateful?

My friend and former pastor frequently asks, "Do you ponder and pray about what God is calling you to do with your “one wild and precious” life?"

I think about that a lot. I just don't have any answers yet.

The Summer Day
Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?