There are just so many things I want. They are not bad things. In fact it’s all pretty normal stuff. But I look around and it seems like everyone else has them.
And that hurts.
I look around, and I think…
I want your house. It’s in the perfect location. Always clean. No chipped paint. So up to date and well-decorated.
I want your job. Your significance. My life of mundane tasks feels so infinitely unimportant.
I want your family. It seems so put together and cohesive. Mine is complicated and a lot of work.
And -I want your community. I have many life-long friends, but they are spread out on different continents and in different cities and in different circles. I’m feeling alone. For once, I want a crowd.
So here I am, filled with all these empty thoughts, and it’s beginning to feel a bit like Envy. Like, you don’t deserve all those things. And you think you’ve earned them. And, I’m not going to help you get even more.
“Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is disorder and every evil thing.” (James 3:16)
I’ll say.
a walk in my welly boots 