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It’s a different kind of greed.
It’s not about the pursuit of stuff, or hoarding things and refusing to share them. No, in my life, even my DQ Chocolate Extreme Blizzard gets split with two other little mouths.
But nonetheless, it’s greed.
When Christian sends me shopping without the kids, I hurry from place to place, gnashing my teeth because it feels rushed, and I want enough time to shop at a relaxed pace.
When the weather is absolutely gorgeous and we have a chance to go outside, I grumble because the interstate is noisy.
As we prepare to pull out the driveway for a weekend of fun and enjoyment in Chicago, I can’t suppress a pang for the irises in full bloom and my summer cheer daffodils, because I’m going to miss the greatest part of their beauty.
Never being satisfied with who you are and where you are—that is greed. A greed that says that despite the overpowering beauty of life, it’s never enough.
Tomorrow is the feast of the Ascension—the second of two mountaintop experiences recorded in the Gospels.
The first time the Heavens opened up, the Apostles got caught up in the moment. They got greedy. Not satisfied with simply being there and experiencing the moment, they wanted to memorialize it so they could come back and relive it again and again. They didn’t realize that the moment was a fleeting gift, a way to fortify them against the horrors waiting at the bottom of the mountain.
Weeks later, after all the drama of Passion and death, when the Apostles had reveled in the joy of Resurrection, they went back up the mountain. This time, when the Heavens opened, it was to take Jesus from their sight. And once again, they got caught star gazing. But this time, they understood the big picture. This time, when they went down the mountain, they hit the ground running. And it changed the world.
What do these stories tell me? They tell me that I have to walk a narrow path in my life. I need to live in the moment and appreciate it for what it’s worth, not what it could be if only. But it’s only one moment. I must take every moment as it comes, draw from it what I can, and journey onward.