To Have and to Hold

I’m pretty intrigued by Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars. John has a bunch of them, and I can spend lots of time, while he’s vroooming them around, just looking at the detail, comparing the different styles, and wondering which of these I would most like to drive. I line them up by size, style, color, and even value. But there always seems to be one feeling that comes most strongly when I’m doing this – I want more. I start thinking about collecting them. I want them all. I start thinking about all the different makes and models I don’t have. I then notice the flaws in the cars we have. This one has a wheel bent. This one’s paint is starting to chip. I start thinking that I should keep them in their original boxes or just not let John play with them. . . . . . . . . .

Whoaaaaaaaaa. What happened? How did I move from playing cars with my son to this growing urge to get more and not let John play with them?

I have a desire to have. It’s strong. It often leads me to Ebay or Amazon to browse what’s out there and wish I could have more.

Am I lacking? NO. Does John need more cars? NO. Do I need unopened Matchbox or Hot Wheels cars being stored in a Rubbermaid just so I HAVE them? NO.

Then what’s the deal? Why does there seem to be so much influence based on what I don’t have – what I want?

False hope.

I place upon these items hope - a hope that they will make me more happy by filling the void I feel because I don’t have them. I actually believe they will increase my happiness. And guess what? They do. For a brief moment, I am more happy because I acquired something I didn’t have, then the feeling is gone and all I have is the realization that I now have this new item but still am lacking. Well, then, I need another. I need to find something else. Well, there are plenty of other items I want, so it’s not hard to find another item to focus on and place my hope in.

I become a “momentary good feeling” junkie. I like how it makes me feel to get something I want, so I keep doing it. I keep placing my hope in what is fleeting. I’m happy, for a moment, but then I’m off to look for something else to get.

A matchbox car is just that – a matchbox car. A shirt is a shirt. A car is a car. They are not sources of hope. They are not things to acquire to find meaning. It’s just a matchbox car, a shirt, a car, etc.

Here’s my problem. I falsely put my hope in them to fill the void(s) I feel. It’s like dying of thirst and receiving a drop in my empty glass. At least it’s a drop, but I then have to keep looking for another drop. I’m still dying of thirst. The pursuit of these drops is fruitless and will never fill my cup, but I keep looking in the wrong places to fill my cup.

Where is hope found? Hope is found in the river of life, where my cup cannot contain the waters which fill it. My hope must be found in Jesus Christ.

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus' name.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
(My Hope Is Built - Edward Mote)

There is absolutely nothing wrong with Matchbox or Hot Wheels cars. There is nothing wrong with a new shirt or car. But when I put my hope in those things, then I am expecting from them what they can never give.