Feasting on God

The light comes through the window in dappled, twinkled glory in the evenings.  At the weary end of the day, when the shadows grow long and there is laughter and chatter at the table over dinner together, this is my view.

My back and feet are aching, and though I’m savoring the sweetness of this moment together as a family gathered around full steaming plates, I know dishes and laundry and baths and bedtime stories and bible reading are still ahead of me.  My soul longs to just curl up in the chair, in that spot of light, and be still.  Or read.  And the time for that will come in the darkness when the house is {mostly} clean and the children are giggling back and forth in their room and all is finally done.  Always, this temptation during the day to forsake the necessary work for the pleasure.  Always, the temptation to forsake the present season for the next one.  Always, the temptation to forsake the ultimate in order to satisfy the immediate.

My soul is hungry, often dissatisfied.  It grumbles at me throughout the day to be satiated, to be fed.  It looks for quick and natural solutions.

“This is the great business of life–to ‘put our mouths out of taste for those pleasures with which the tempter baits his hooks.’  I know of no other way to triumph over sin long-term, than to gain a distaste for it, because of a superior satisfaction in God…God remains gloriously all-satisfying.  The human heart remains a ceaseless factory of desires.  Sin remains powerfully and suicidally appealing.  The battle remains: where will we drink?  Where will we feast?”  -John Piper, Desiring God

Our appetites for lesser things are quieted and quelled with feasting on something Greater.  Ah, yes, I remember.  This is the way.

Feast on God.