Today I ate a grapefruit for lunch - with Saltines, just like my Grandpa Nichols. I used to try to eat a grapefruit like an orange and that never ended well. I've since learned a method that wastes little of the delicious fruit. As I was cutting into the pink today, careful to not waste any of those sweet, pink pockets, I realized that enjoying a grapefruit is a commitment. You've got to be willing to work in order to enjoy membrane-less, tangy goodness.
I started thinking about all the reasons I don't choose good things - all the times I've passed up a grapefruit for a granola bar just because it's easier. I know what's better and sometimes I can even taste it because I've chosen it before, but something dreadful inside of me attacks my knowledge of "better." And I end up settling for less effort and less goodness.
God promises to not withhold any good thing from us. In Christ, God lavishes an inheritance I can't comprehend - gifts that won't run out even if I open one every moment of my life. God promises, in Christ to withhold no good thing from us, so the choice for less is on me.
Psalm 84:11 For the LORD God is a sun and shield; the LORD bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless.
I wondered (cutting up that tasty giant took some tiempo) if we learn to recognize the good things, but are never held accountable to do/use them. In college I sat in study groups and wrote papers and made passionate presentations about all the good things we should be/could be doing, but the doing of those things is just too hard and everybody knows it. Now, I go to bible studies and post facebook links and wax philosophy at coffee shops about the best ways to change the world, but the doing of these things is just too hard and everybody knows it.
Everybody knows we'll end up ordering Little Caesar's instead of planning a homegrown spread from the garden. Everybody knows those ideas about loving others and living like Jesus are like climbing Mt. Everest - we can feel the rush as we raise our hands in victory on the summit, but we're never going to train for it. It's just the way we do life.
I sat down to enjoy my juicy prize at my desk and thought, "But it doesn't have to be that way."