I don't know if I should admit this or not, but one of my favorite shows is "The Rachel Zoe Project". Half of you probably don't know who Rachel Zoe is (she is a fashion stylist and designer), and the other half of you may not be able to stand her "whiny personality" (as my husband describes it). However, I enjoy watching the process of styling, and I respect the fact that she is successful at what she loves to do. One of the entertaining aspects of the show (and something that may have made her more famous than her styling) is that she is always coming up with catch phrases to describe how much she loves a garment. Last year, it was - "I die" or "Bananas". Her most recent phrase is - "This is everything." When I first heard her say that I thought, "Really? That dress is your everything?" And although I think she would say that she loves her son more than fashion, she would probably admit that it's a close call.
It made me stop and think, "What is my everything?" What do I get really excited about? What do I get really upset about? What do I worry about? What do I think about when I wake up in the middle of the night? Lately, it has been my house renovation. It has been my "everything". And I can tell you that it's a difficult, elusive, never-ending master. I've learned that it's much better to be content with what you have than to try to reach perfection with your house, because you will never be finished.
Before my house, it was artistic outlets - fashion, painting, sewing, photography, blogging. I still really enjoy all of those activities, but they each make for a very shallow "everything". Art and fashion can express substance, but they can't be the substance. You do reach the finish line in art (as opposed to house decorating), but the satisfaction of the art piece only lasts for moment. Then you must create again to fill the void.
Today (Easter) is the most popular day to go to church, but I doubt that God is "everything" to many people. It's just too easy to ignore God (at least in the good times), and there are too many things screaming for our attention. This morning in church, the pastor said that we can't have a moderate view of Jesus, because Jesus made a lot of claims that didn't leave that option open to us. The pastor's statement made me think that often I just want a moderate amount of Jesus in my life. But Jesus didn't really leave that option open to us either. He continually asked people he met to make him their "everything".
God was the first artist, the first fashion designer, the creator of relationships, the creator of talent and work. He thinks all of that is good. But he didn't mean for any of that to be my "everything". He's the only one that has enough substance for me to soak up for a lifetime. He's the only one with enough beauty and goodness to never lack for depth. He's the only one I can't suffocate with my needs. He's the only one that offers enough love to fill my soul. He's the only one that is worthy to be my "everything".