The Blackness of Darkness; Undiluted Ravenous Desire; and Caustic Consumerism

Shaking the house, like a predator finally catching its prey and shaking the last bit of life from it,  the wind pounds on the walls of my home attempting to loosen me from my safe place.  It is relentless.  It throws water from the sky attempting to penetrate the walls that surround me.  It is stubborn.  It steals the electricity from my dwelling, disconnecting me from the outside world.    It is adamant about its desire to reach me.  

Fragments of the natural light quickly ebb away and I am left in utter darkness.  Tonight, the cloak of blackness has hidden the moon and stars.  There is simply no light.  However, I am protected because I am inside this structure.   I am warm, because I have the soft, velvety blanket.  I am unscathed because my home is firmly anchored to the concrete foundation.  I am safe but it is still black.  

Sitting in this physical blackness with my overactive mind loudIy proclaiming its desire to watch Home and Garden T.V., a whisper asks me to be still and look deeper.  

Sliding back into the comfort of my mossy, green, overstuffed recliner, I allow my eyelids to fall closed. My will is struggling with its desire for an HGTV fix, but I sense that there is something bigger here to learn.  I feel like He is asking me to do some personal soul searching.  I continue to silently ponder this request.  Tonight, I am hungry for the impossible visual of flashing colorful pixels, and it is eating me.  All I can think about is wanting to sit under my cozy blanket; watch all the amazing renovations take place in less than thirty minutes; and dream of doing these impossible, costly things to my own bungalow.  I am consumed with desire. 

Attempting to silence this ravenous desire for HGTV, slowly another whisper increases it's volume and finally I can hear it. It tells me to look at the friendship between this blackness and my insatiable appetite for HGTV.  I am perplexed.  Really????  

Like a ravenous orb spider patiently awaiting it's next meal, this web that the media spins is a slow, steady campaign directed at my 

insatiable desires.  Many times I am just plain unaware that there is a chase going on for my heart, time, attention, and money.  I am like an unaware flying insect. Enticed by the sparkly.  Drawn by the instant ease of access and gratification. Lured and mesmerized by the sights and sounds being flashed in front of my eyes on the T.V., phone, computer, and billboard.  I am consumed with want.

My undiluted ravenous desire for this caustic consumerism, is like a lightening bug that can not help itself.  It is drawn to the light.  

Each purchase; each viewing; each hour spent dreaming, seems innocent enough.  However, this caustic consumerism is executing it's well-designed plan to make sure that I am lulled and not able to fight.  It slowly, methodically wraps me in its "comfortable" cocoon on it's web.  It patiently coats the walls of my mind, attempting to loosen my grip on the truth.  It is relentless.  It throws visual enticements at me, attempting to make me "need" what I didn't even know existed. It is stubborn.  It steals my contentment by making me desire "new" and "improved".  It is adamant about its desire to reach me and destroy me.

The physical storm outside and the ravenous storm of desire for HGTV inside my head, can both lead to destruction.  One can destroy me physically, the other can destroy me spiritually.  Both are deadly.  One I can see, hear, and feel myself being swayed and pulled by.  The other masquerades as an pleasant, innocent, and enticing color parade promising fulfillment.  Both can destroy me if I am unprepared.

Instantaneously, thunder explodes outside and truth explodes

inside.  The entire house shakes, but so does my entire being.  How could I have been so foolish?  Truth is often right in front of me and yet invisible.  Am I the only one like this?  A candle is lit and light recklessly spills into this blackness.  Grabbing my bible, it falls open to Matthew 6:19 and my eyes strain to read.  "STOP!"  I try again, "STOP!"  Blinking hard and using a flashlight, I try for a third time.  It reads, "STOP storing up treasures for yourself on this earth ..."  WOW!  It seems plain enough.  Maybe the key is right in front of me.  "Just Stop!"  Could it be that simple?  Maybe, just maybe, instead of "updating" the house, I should sell some of my stuff.  Maybe, instead of more closet space, I need less clothes.  

What if you read those words, "Just Stop!"  What would you need to stop doing, buying, being?  What is it that is silently stealing your focus off of what really matters and who really matters?  I guess none of this "stuff" is going with me, because truly....it all goes back in the box.  

Sometimes I can be so plank-eyed.  

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl

P.S.  Yes, I've read, "7" by Jen Hatmaker, and "Notes from a Blue Bicycle" by Tsh Oxenreider.  If you haven't, you should.