A life can be complicated. We never have enough. We are taught to have more than enough, always pile it all up for a rainy day (well, more like in anticipation of a second Noah flood). We are even encouraged to believe by faith in a god who is so eager to bless us beyond what we thought should be enough.
So when we are taught that enough is not quite enough, will we then ever come to a point of sudden dawning that what we already have is good enough? Or, putting it another way, at what point do we start to live a life of lasting and trusted rest, rather than one lusting after it, and never getting it because nothing we ever have is enough in our brief lifetime on earth?
When God completed the creation work in Genesis, on the seventh day, it is recorded that he rested. In Hebrew, that rest is interpreted as, “And God exhaled.”
Our Creator diligently took a breath, made full use of it, and released it. He let go. He knew when to let go. It comes after what needs to be done is done. And when He saw it was all good, he exhaled. He rested.
Well, do we? Do we embrace what we have and then exhale, coming to full rest? Or, do we see what is good as an enemy of great (or best), and because of that, we are always struggling to catch our breaths between our endless/mindless worldly pursuits?
I wrote this because I read this morning about what actor Allan Wu said in an interview. He was interviewed by Choo Yun Ting.
Allan’s ex-wife is another celebrity, Wong Li Lin. They have two kids, a daughter, Sage, 16, and a son, Jonas, 14.
He was born in California to Chinese immigrant parents. They were upper middle class. Allan studied integrative biology at the University of California, Berkeley. He recalled that he grew up in a “frugal environment.”
“My mother was the one who taught me to be grateful for what I have, because a lot of people out there have a lot less than we did.”
Living in the fast-paced world, Allan had his own demons to fight with. He admitted that for a time, he was “more preoccupied with keeping up with the Joneses, especially working in the entertainment industry, where he would see peers driving nice cars or owning luxury items.”
Allan said: “There was a time that I was influenced by that, and felt that I had to be that way too. But then I realised that trying to be like everyone didn’t increase my quality of life or made me happier.”
Going full philosophical mode, Allan has this advice for his two kids: “It is more important to go out into the world and discover what makes you happy.”
“If you’re able to make a living out of it, then you will never have to work a day in your life. Also, never spend beyond your means, because we don’t really need much to be happy - we just need to find out what are the surprisingly few things that we actually do need.”
That reminded me of what Jesus told Martha when she complained to him about not asking Mary for help out in the kitchen. He said, “Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
For me, Allan’s “surprisingly few things” coincides with Jesus’ “only one thing”. And the point is not about numbers, whether it is one or a few. But it is about the condition of our heart. For there are many pursuits calling out to us, and our goals and ambition can be innumerable and unquenchable. But there is only one heart to receive all that, to process them, and to commit over a lifetime.
Jesus is thus reminding Martha to always choose what is better, and what is better always satisfies. In other words, it is always, and unfailingly enough, or more than enough. True rest therefore comes from our intentional choices to pursue what is worthy, fruitful and timeless. And that one thing always grant a life unhurried rest.
So, if our life is about the house we have built for ourselves and our loved ones, where do we then spent most of our waking moments? Is it in the kitchen, busy cooking up a storm to impress, yet seldom around for the people we love, or profess to love? Or, is in the living room, striving for intimacy, building relationships and finding lasting rest and contentment in it?
While Jesus is not saying that kitchen work or ministry is not important, he is however saying, at what cost are we paying for such breathless pursuits? For in the end, only a fool counts not the cost when he builds his house. He can always build a grand mansion with manicured garden, but his heart never feels complete, and the work for him is never finished.
Or he can build a modest home, without all that empty space, yet his heart is always full, knowing full well that the lives living in it are always content, joyful and resilient even in the midst of a trial.
Let me end with these words by poet William Stafford.
“There‘a a thread you follow. It goes among things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing. You have to explain about the thread. But it is hard for others to see. While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt or die; and you suffer and get old. Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding. You don’t ever let go of the thread.”
Mary did not let it go. That thread was all she held on to. That one thread accompanied her throughout her life. Things may change, but not that thread. It is the only thread she knew, and the only choice she had made that gave her unsurpassed peace. She had indeed exhaled, in full rest, and left the things of this world to go strangely dim as she turned her eyes to what matters in life.
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